Lost and Searching
by Smashingcrosses
Summary: When Peter finds out he was adopted by the Parker's as a toddler he begins searching for the family he never knew he had. Natasha starts to search for the son she had lost when defecting from the KGB. But things are complicated when enemies, new and old try to destroy the Avengers for good. (AU where Natasha is Peter's mom) R&R?
1. Haunted

Chapter One: Haunted

Natasha Romanoff laid on her bed at the Avenger's new Compound in upstate New York. She'd been pardoned by the President after assisting the United States government with a covert operation in North Korea and returned to the Avengers, despite Tony's protests. _"She's the same person that she always was, we were just dumb enough to believe she was anything else."_ His words echoed in her mind. Tony was upset with her, for good reason, but it was surprisingly hurtful having him to have such disdain for her.

Forcing the thoughts from her mind she returned to the small book with three worn photographs. Natasha's heart pounded against her ribs as she stared at the picture of her and the baby boy in her arms. "I should have taken you and run, just seen how far I could get before they caught us." There were a lot of things she regretted but letting them take him from her was the hardest one to swallow.

Her sorrow was interrupted by Vision entering her room through the wall. "We've talked about this." Natasha rubbed her eyes, making her irritation clear.

"Yes," He nodded. "It's just, I can sense your distress from," He stopped, gesturing to his room on the other side of the wall.

"We talked about that too, didn't we?" Natasha was less than pleased by her thoughts and feelings being read without her consent.

Vision approached her bed. "It's not always voluntary, I'm afraid." He looked at the book in her hands. "May I?" He extended his hand, to which she simply passed him the book without a word. "Your son?" He asked, already knowing the answer, as he looked at the pictures of the former assassin holding a baby. Which in itself was a tad disarming. Vision sat down on the edge of the bed glancing at the folded up note in the back of the book, a hand written note to her son he assumed. "What was his name?" Vision asked, handing the book back to her.

"I wasn't allowed to give him a name," Natasha's sadness was momentarily replaced with anger. "As far as the KGB was concerned, we were both property." She quickly looked away, and tried to blink away the tears. "They took him from me, and would occasionally let me see him, if I completed my mission without making too much of a scene. It helped them control me." There was silence between them before she a smile played across her lips for a moment. "But had I been allowed to choose, I would have named him Mikhail." A small tear dripped off her lash and onto her cheek, though she was quick to wipe it away.

Vision knew that humans were emotional creatures by nature, but Natasha had always seemed so in control of here, detached from them even. "Tonight must hold some sort of significance, for you to be in this kind of pain." Their eyes finally met, and he was trying his his best not to read her mind.

"It's his birthday." She swallowed hard, trying desperately to fight back the tears. "I can't even wish my own son a happy birthday." Natasha choked out the words, and tried to remember her training on suppressing her emotions but it was no use, her mind just went back to her son.

Vision sighed and scooted himself closer to Natasha. "Have you thought about finding him now?" She laughed dryly, the answer was a tad obvious.

"Of course I have. But, I wouldn't even know where to start." She'd dreamed of finding him countless times since she'd joined SHIELD 13 years earlier.

"You do have the world's greatest intelligence agency behind you." Vision realized he was trying to convince her to look for him; and even he wasn't exactly sure why.

Again Natasha laughed. "And if I managed to find him, what would I say?" She scoffed at the thought. "Hey kiddo, I know I haven't seen you since you were 3, and I doubt you remember me, but I'm your Mom." Natasha mocked the scenario. "No," She smiled her eyes focused on the twiddling of her own thumbs. "I never want my son to find out who I was."

Vision understood now, that it wasn't just the daunting task of finding him. Natasha knew that the whole world knew who she was now, and the idea of her own son rejecting her was beyond terrifying. "I can't force you to find him," Vision put a gentle hand Natasha's shoulder. "But, I think you need a little closure, if nothing else." The phone on Natasha's bedside table rang.

"Damn it." She swore, clearing her nose and throat before answering the call and switching back to the emotionless spy facade she wore for the rest of the world. "Yes, Mr. Secretary?" She listened to him explain her next mission in silence, her and Vision's eyes locked while she listened. It was both impressive, and saddening to watch how good she was at hiding her feelings from everyone around her. "Yes, Mr. Secretary, Ill be on the next flight." Natasha hung up and looked back at Vision. "I've just received orders to Afghanistan." Part of her wanted to stay here with Vision and talk about her son all night but Natasha couldn't refuse an order from Secretary Ross.

"Another night then, Agent Romanoff."

* * *

Peter sat at his desk working on his science homework. He found school work to be little more than time consuming at this point. Even with his mind only half focused on anything other than being a hero he aced every test put in front of, but Mr. Stark had insisted he stay with his grade. _"Be 15 for a while."_ Peter almost rolled his eyes just thinking about it. It didn't matter what he did, he was still just a kid to them.  
He didn't fit in at home, and he didn't fit in with the hero's he idolized; and for the first time since his parents died, Peter felt alone.

The door to his room opened. "I see you actually stayed home tonight." Aunt May leaned on the door frame behind him. Peter could hear the old wood frame creak as she put her weight on it, the sound was like nails on a chalk board to him at that moment.

"And last night, and the night before that, and the night before that, and-" He stopped himself, realizing how dangerously close to snapping he was. It'd been a week since he'd gone out as spider-man and the lack of an outlet for his almost endless energy was beginning to wear on him. His already super human senses seemed to be dialed up even further and it was giving him a constant headache.

"Which I'm grateful for. You're too young to be out trying to save the world." Aunt May spoke with conviction, and Peter understood why she was upset to find out he'd been sneaking out and fighting crime for close to a year.

"Aunt May-" Peter began to protest.

"No," She interrupted, pointing a finger at him. "No you're my nephew and I made a promise that I would keep you safe, and I can't do that if you're out there playing hero." At that Peter grabbed the laptop from his backpack and ripped it open.

"Playing hero, huh?" He pulled up several news articles he'd spent hours poring over. "Man beaten and robbed 6 blocks from here," He looked up quickly. "Two people gunned down in Brooklyn." Peter could have gone all night. "Every night that I sit here doing homework instead of being out there bad things happen to innocent people. I have the powers, May, and that gives me a responsibility to use them to help people!" Peter felt his lip quiver, frustration tears welling up in his eyes.

"Peter," She took a few steps towards him and leaned in. "You are a child, saving people is NOT YOUR RESPONSIBILITY!" Peter realized that she didn't get it. She couldn't understand what it was that he went through knowing he could have stopped something bad from happening to an innocent person.

He jumped from his seat and threw his hands in the air. "That's it!" He exclaimed, grabbing his bag and heading for the window.

Aunt May was startled by his sudden outburst. "And where do you think you're going?" She knew what he was doing and that she couldn't stop him.

"I am NOT going to sit in this God damn house for one more second." And with that he disappeared from the room and scaled the brick wall's of his apartment building to the roof. Rain began to fall the second he made it to the roof, so he changed quickly before heading off into the night.  
Peter breathed in the mid October air, taking a brief second to enjoy the cool rain while he slipped his suit on.

"Hey, Peter!" Karen came on with the rest of his heads up display.

"Karen, can you get the local police scanner for me?" Peter asked Karen, impatiently.

"Of course, Peter." Her voice had a way of calming him, even if she was just an AI. "However, citing your lack of medical training I'm limiting you to police and fire emergencies." He agreed, knowing he'd do more harm than good in a situation like that.

It only took 10 minutes for the first police call to come through. _"All units be advised, we have a break in at a pharmacy on 164th Street and Hillside Ave. Approach with caution."_ Peter would have been lying if he said he wasn't excited as he swung from building to building, nearly losing his grip on his webs twice.  
Peter reached the store just as the masked man ran out of the store and into the rain, a bag filled with money and painkillers in his hand. He shot a web and caught the thief by the ankle, causing the man to face plant with _'Smack!'_ as he hit the wet concrete.

"This doesn't belong to you." Peter yanked the bag from his grip with another web. The desperate man drew a knife as he jumped to his feet and charged Peter, swinging wildly at him. Peter dodged the swings with ease before finally countering with a quick, open-handed shot to the man's sternum, which knocked the wind out of him and dropped him to the ground. "I hope you think about this before you decide to break the law in my town." He smirked beneath his mask, webbing his leg to the ground and kicking the blade out of reach.

A shiver shot up his spine as he turned to leave, something was coming at him, and fast. But even with his superhuman reflexes he couldn't react in time and he was seized by the wrist. There was an audible _'pop'_ as his left shoulder dislocated. Peter yelped in pain, trying to yank himself free from the death grip he was in.

"Stop moving." A familiar voice ordered, as the flew above the building line.

"M-Mr. Stark?" Peter stopped trying to free himself, realizing they were a good 200 feet off the ground.

"Uh, yeah." The blue eyes of the Iron Man met his. "You and I are gonna have a little talk." Peter could tell by the tone in his voice that he wasn't in the mood for arguing. It didn't take more than a 2 or 3 minutes for them to reach an empty park. Tony dropped Peter on the wet grass before landing in front of his young friend.

"Ya know, maybe just call me next time?" Peter winced as he popped his shoulder back into place. he wished he'd taken that damn tracker out of the suit, but Tony would have noticed that if he did it again.

"Shut it." Tony ordered, his helmet opening, Peter just nodding his agreement. "So I got a call from Aunt May about 20 minutes ago, saying you blew up on her. And THEN left out the window in the suit I gave to you, without so much as a goodbye?" He took a few steps towards Peter and knelt down to his level. "What's going on with you?" Tony's gaze softened, just slightly.

Peter sighed, a feeling of guilt hitting him. "It's just-" He paused, removing his mask. "It's just that when I don't go out, and when something happens I feel ashamed, and guilty. And I have all this pent up energy and puts me on edge when I don't use it." Tony listened to Peter and he understood, too an extent. "And everything little noise or movement makes me-" Peter stopped, feeling embarrassed when he noticed how intently Tony was watching him. "I'm sorry Mr. Stark, I know I shouldn't have yelled at Aunt May."

"Don't say sorry to me, kid" Tony stood and sighed as he watched the boy he'd taken under his wing. "She's worried about you, Pete. And frankly so am I." Peter's eyes would occasionally glace up at him while he talked. "You're not returning my calls, you have 3 B's which you and I know you're above, and according to your lovely aunt, you've seemed wound up and snappy, and you haven't been playing with that friend of yours either." He ended with a deep sigh.

"We don't 'play' Mr. Stark, I'm not a little kid anymore." Peter folded his arms across his chest. "And how do you know I have 3 B's?" Tony scoffed.

"Peter, don't try to change the subject." They both stayed in silence for a long time. "I think we all need to talk." Tony knew that the young hero wasn't going to open up so easily.

* * *

Justin Hammer walked from his cell in flanked by two guards. He'd spent 7 years in a federal prison for assisting Ivan Vanko escaping prison and been sentenced to 7 years after taking a plea deal. 7 years of planning and thought on how to take his revenge on Tony Stark. The eccentric man tried not to smirk as he thought of watching Tony grovel at his feet begging him for mercy. Begging for the lives of his friends.

But he knew it would take time, and more planning to make sure he didn't make the same mistakes as before. Recruiting Ivan had been a mistake he'd had many nights to regret; Ivan wasn't someone he could control. Something he would have known had he taken the time to vet him, but he'd been blinded by the idea of taking down Stark in front of the whole world.  
It took less than an hour for him to be processed out of the prison, the winds that whipped across the desert were a welcome change from the stuffy prison. "Welcome back, Mr. Hammer." Hammer was greeted by his faithful assistant, Quinn, who handed a rather thick. A man Hammer had continued to employ from behind bars, paying him handsomely from a secret account to keep tabs on the Avengers. "You'll be happy to know the Avengers are exceptionally good at making enemies." With an evil grin, Hammer began thumbing through the many people that'd been incarcerated by the Avengers.

"This one." He stopped skimming the file in his hand. "Georges Batroc, 36 kill missions for the French Foreign Legion." He read the file with a chuckled. "I like him already, that's where we'll start." Hammer closed the file.

"Sir, are you sure about someone like him?" Quinn questioned. "I mean killing the Avengers could just make them martyrs, right?" It was true. After their deaths the world would mourn their hero's and once again idolize them.

"The thing is, Mr. Quinn," He smiled at him. "I don't give a shit what the world does after Tony Stark and the rest of those freaks are dead. I just want Tony Stark dead, the rest of them are just a bonus."

 _Author's note: Hey everyone, thanks for reading my first Avengers fan fiction! This chapter is a little slow but I was trying to flesh out the alternate universe Im making, it'll pick up I promise. Also, I feel compelled to give credit where credit is due, I got the idea for this story while reading Spider's Sanctuary by PanzyBears. So I recommend checking that story out! Ill have the next chapter up asap!_


	2. Concussion

Chapter Two: Concussion

Peter sat in silence on a couch in the old Avengers tower, which had become more of glorified office building since Tony had relocated the team. Most of the logistics, operation planning, and legal matters were handled there; but at 11:30 at night the tower was empty. The only noise in the room that had once been the common room for all the Avengers was the rain hitting the windows.

Tony had gone to change out of the Iron Man suit while they waited for Peter's aunt to get to the tower. "Well this is probably our last night together, Karen." Peter sighed, sliding down in his seat and fighting back tears. An overwhelming feeling of guilt for snapping on Aunt May, and the anxiety of losing his suit again, mixed with being sleep deprived and frustrated was proving more than the teen could handle.

"Why, Peter? What's wrong?" She sounded genuinely concerned. Which made him wonder, how intelligent was Karen's AI? DID she care? The whole sentient AI concept was still a little abstract to him.

"Because I'm an idiot!" He exclaimed, the lump in his throat seemed to grow. "I just get so overwhelmed, like every little thing puts me on edge and I freaked on Aunt May, now Mr. Stark and Aunt May are probably gonna take my suit away, again." Part of him wished he'd never gotten his powers, it seemed with every one good thing that came from them 10 more things went wrong.

"It's sensory overload, Peter." Karen stated, as if it should have been obvious. "You're senses, at least by my calculation, are 25 times stronger than the average humans. Your mind is overloaded by all the input from your environment, causing your sleeplessness and irritability." Again, Peter was amazed by how caring and sympathetic Karen was to his problems. "As well as not burning off enough of the energy your body produces aggravates the issue." Karen paused. "It's not your fault, Peter." Karen assured him, her tone slightly sweeter than usual.

"Well is there anything I can do about it?" Peter perked up. But before Karen could say another word the door to the room opened and Tony came walked into the dimly lit room followed closely by his Aunt May, who looked very nervous.

"I'm not sure Ill ever get used to seeing you in that suit." Aunt May sighed, but it fell on deaf ears, Peter jumped from his seat and practically ran to Aunt May and wrapped his arms around her neck.

"I'm sorry, Aunt May." He apologized, his face buried into her shoulder. "I didn't mean to freak on you," He released her and pulled the mask off his head, his brown eyes meeting hers. Taking a deep breath he stepped back and took a minute to collect his thoughts. "I was talking to Karen, and she said it's something called sensory overload-"

"Karen?" Tony looked over his shoulder at Peter.

"Oh, th-the AI lady, in my suit." Peter stuttered nervously.

Tony turned on his heel to face Peter and Aunt May. "You named the multi-million dollar AI I designed specifically for you, Karen?" Tony tried not to laugh. Peter coming up with a name for it was both funny and adorable.

"Um," His eyes flicked back and forth from Tony to May. "Uh, yeah. I named her Karen, can I finish?" Tony nodded and waved his hand. "Anyway, she said it's sensory overload, and because my senses are too strong it's overwhelming my mind and making it hard for me to sleep and making me irritable and-" The young hero caught himself rambling, something he knew he was prone to doing. "I'm sorry." Peter's voice cracked slightly, looking down at the stone flooring beneath his feet. "Please don't take my suit, Mr. Stark."

Tony and Aunt May looked at each other, and May sighed, relenting to Tony. "We're not gonna take your suit, Pete." Peter's eyes came up to Tony's, a small smile playing across his lips. "But," Tony approached Peter and placed his hands on his thin but muscular arms. "You have to keep your grades up, and you have to have dinner with Aunt May at least 3 nights a week." Peter laughed slightly, his heart rate slowed and the lump in his throat began to disappear.

"I think I can manage that." Peter smiled, and at that Tony released the light grip he had on Peter's arms.

"Besides," Tony took the mask from Peter's hand. "We wouldn't wanna separate you and Karen, now would we?" Tony laughed as Peter playfully pushed him away.

* * *

 _"66, 67, 68-"_ Georges Batroc, the infamous pirate and mercenary, did push ups in his cell. He'd been sentenced to 15 years in a maximum security federal prison located on the coast of California. And after his sentence was served, he'd be sent back to France to stand trial there as well.  
Batroc was resigned to the fact he would be in prison until he died, all of his contacts on the outside had been killed or captured by S.H.I.E.L.D. But, with nothing to do but work out and sleep for 23 hours a day the already superb athlete had gotten even stronger while incarcerated.

The mercenary was yanked from his concentration by 3 loud bangs on his cell door. "Batroc?" The voice yelled as the slot on the steel door opened. With another push off the ground he was on his feet.

"What?" He looked out at the guard, whom he'd never seen before. "You new?" The man chuckled, quickly passing Batroc a note before he spoke.

"The transfer you put in for came through, please back up to the door and put your hands through so I can cuff you." Georges Batroc did as he was told; he wasn't sure what this was about but he was intrigued enough to not ask questions. The prison was oddly quiet as he was escorted through the halls and towards the exterior of the prison, which was located on a small island in the middle of a harbor. They made their way to the water's edge in silence.

"You are going to kill me now, yes?" Batroc questioned.

The man laughed and undid the cuffs on Batroc's wrists. "The opposite actually. Someone with a LOT of money wants your services." He paused, putting the cuffs back on his hip. "You can swim, I assume?" Batroc nodded. "Good, now there's a car waiting in the parking lot of the dock across the way." The man pointed across the dark water, only lights reflecting off the water would light his way. "Now read the not I gave you, I was told there is special instructions for once you're across." The former soldier did as he was told and unfolded the note.

 _"No witnesses. Kill him."_ Batroc smirked. Spinning quickly he kicked the man's legs out from under him and quickly brought his forearm down on his throat and pressed down. The man squirmed and fought under Batroc, but was simply outmatched by the very strong, very well-trained mercenary. Batroc enjoyed the look of panic and fear in his eyes, and the thrill of holding him down and silently choking the life from him.

It only took 15 seconds for the man to lose consciousness, and another 30 seconds to make sure he wouldn't be getting back up. Batroc took the liberty of looting the man's pockets for money and anything that might identify him, before tossing him into the ocean and then jumping in himself.

The ocean's currents were against him across the water but eventually he made it to the dock. There was a black SUV with two suited men outside of it waiting for him, now his attention was really peaked. To have the power to break him out of a federal prison and the confidence to have a pick up waiting less than a mile away meant his anonymous liberator had a great deal of power and money.

"Mr. Batroc." One of the suited men spoke quickly, opening the door to SUV for him. There was an envelope on the seat waiting for him, containing a fake sate ID, the name Bernard Martin, with a matching passport from France and a fake visa.

"We're heading to Hammer industries now, Mr. Batroc." One of the suited men finally spoke. "Mr. Hammer is quite excited to meet you."

* * *

It took Natasha 9 hours to reach Afghanistan, even at the Quinjet's top speed of 850 miles per hour. But she'd made it, and part of her was hoping this would take her mind off her son for a few days. Natasha was in the pilot's seat even though the jet was on autopilot as it flew over the mountainous terrain. The sun coming up over the horizon was quite beautiful, if she didn't know what waited for her in the forests below she might say it was peaceful.

Her mission seemed pretty straight forward; a group of Taliban fighters had shot down a Black Hawk helicopter and managed to capture one of the pilots, Major Dominique Jones. She was to find where they were and turn on the homing beacon she carried and then a team of Navy SEALs would extract the pilot and wipe the remaining hostiles out. "This is Agent Romanoff, Ill be on the ground in 10 minutes, how copy?" Natasha hated working with the military. So many codes and rules, and a lot of crossed wires that had gotten her shot at by people on her side more than once.

 _"Copy that, Agent Romanoff. Be advised that when you activate the beacon the ETA for extract is 30 minutes."_ The man responded over the headset. Natasha rolled her eyes.

"Copy that." She pulled off the headset and threw it into the seat next to her, annoyed. "30 minutes to extract." Natasha cursed herself for believing the 5 minute nonsense she'd been promised. "Might as well just carry her off the damn mountain myself." The Russian assassin that would always be part of her wished they would just roll through and bomb the mountain to hell and be done with it. A feeling of guilt hitting her; the woman she was sent to rescue had done nothing to deserve to be condemned to death, and countless civilians could be killed in a bombing of that magnitude. Part of her wondered if she would ever truly shed the heartlessness that'd been instilled in her in the red room.

Shaking herself free from the thoughts she grabbed the UMP .45 and parachute from their place in one of the empty seats and opened the hatch. A smile crept across her lips as she thought of Cap, jumping out of the Quinjet and into the ocean hundreds of feet below without a parachute. That was their last real mission together and she missed it, more so than she realized until now as she leaped from the air craft.

Once on the ground Natasha began her decent down the mountain, cursing herself for not dressing warmer. The intelligence she was given was shaky at best, which made her very nervous, a feeling she was far from accustom too.

 _Bang! Bang!_ Two shots rang out from a no more than a hundred feet down the mountain, directly in front of her. Pulling the sub machine gun tighter into her shoulder she slowly crept towards two voices who were speaking Pashto, a language she didn't speak.  
Natasha was silent in her approach, though she didn't exactly need to be; the two men were shooting blindly at a village well out of the range of their Ak-47's. _Snap._ Natasha fired one shot from her silenced weapon into the back of one of the men's head. The other spun around quickly but wasn't fast enough. She fired 3 shots, 2 to the chest and one to the head.

"I'm on the right track." Natasha remarked stepping over the lifeless bodies and continuing her mission.  
Finally after hiking down the mountain for 2 hours she reached a ridge over looking a clearing, and a mouth of a cave directly below her. She counted at least 20 hostiles outside the cave, and surely more inside the cave as well. "What a pain." Natasha worked her way down to the clearing, wishing this was just a kill mission. She'd be done by now.

Allowing her training to take over she easily slipped past most of the men outside, who had no reason to think someone would sneak into their camp. Natasha reached the opening to the cave system and took a deep breath. With more glance around to make sure no one was aware of her presence, she pulled a small explosive from her a pouch on her belt. It no bigger than a D battery, but had the explosive power of a pound of C4 and tossed it quickly into the center of the camp.

The cave system was dark, only small lights hooked to a generator on the outside of the cave lit her way. It seemed never ending, and there were countless twists and turns and it broke off into different passages. "This place is a God damn maze." Natasha whispered to herself, following the main passage further into the mountain.

"You will tell us!" A man's voice yelled from deeper in the cave, followed by the _Smack!_ of skin hitting skin.

Natasha sped up to a light jog knowing that had to be her captured pilot. Peering around a corner and into an opening in the cave system there she was, still in her flight suit. "Speak!" One of the 3 men demanded from the woman lying on her side, a smile spreading across her bloodied face, the two men dragged her off the cave floor. "You will tell us, woman!" Again he yelled through his broken English.

"Man," Major Dominique Jones chuckled slightly, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the man's boots. "It's gonna take a hell of a lot more than a beating for me to tell you anything." Natasha tried not to smile, her defiance in the face of torture and death was admirable. The man was visibly angered by her, and he pulled the pistol off his hip, pointing it at the Major.

"Last chance." With a smirk she leaned into the gun.

"You might as well kill me and get it over with, 'cause I'm not telling you shit." The man growled and lifted the gun as he cocked it. Taking her opportunity Natasha opened fire, with deadly accuracy.

"Major Jones?" Called as she activated the beacon that was built into her gauntlet and rushed to the woman's side. "Are you injured?" Natasha asked, cutting the ropes that bound her hands.

"I broke a few ribs in the crash, and they broke my nose, but other than that," She paused rubbing her hands together. "I'm fine." Natasha nodded and helped the battered but not broken officer to her feet.

"My name is Natasha Romanoff, I've been sent here to rescue you." Nastash explained quickly, eager to get Major Jones out of the cave.

She laughed. "I know who you are, I think everyone knows who you are." She grimaced internally. It's hard to be a spy if you're one of the most recognized people on the planet, and knowing all her dirty secrets were out there wasn't the most pleasant of thoughts for her. She'd preferred it when her past was shrouded darkness, only Clint, SHIELD, and the dead knew about what she'd done.

Shaking it off as a compliment she returned to the task at hand. "Let's get you home." Natasha handed her the pistol she carried, and began reloading her own weapon. Two men came into the open room. Everyone gasped slightly, both groups as caught off by the other. Natasha reacted quickly and shoved Major Jones behind the cover of another generator before diving away from the gun fire and scrambling behind a pile of rocks.

Bullets hit the rock and ricocheted in every direction, until they ran out of ammo and retreated behind the wall of the cave. "What's our play, Romanoff?" The woman she was sent to rescue called from the other side of the cave.

Natasha pulled the detonator for the bomb she'd planted outside the cave and pressed it. The explosions shock wave rumbled down the cave with a cloud of dust. Most of the lights flickered out, leaving most of the cave completely dark. "There is no play, we wait for extract." Natasha silently hoped that most of the men had been killed, or at least disoriented by the explosion. Natasha popped her head up over the rock and immediately drew fire from 3 more men that had come down the cave.  
This wasn't the plan, and normally when plans went sideways Natasha could just use her skills to shoot and fight her way out, but that wasn't an option having Major Jones injured as bad as she was.

Major Jones popped quickly from behind her and returned fire, killing one man just before he could shoot back. "RPG!" Major Jones yelled suddenly, as one of the men came around the corner and took aim at the rock pile Natasha was using as cover. She fired 2 shots and hit him with both, knocking him backwards, and causing him to fire the RPG. The rocket flew into the cave's ceiling and detonated upon impact a few feet in front of Natasha.

The cave above her head crumbled from the explosion, pounds of rocks fell onto Natasha. Instinctively she released the weapon and covered her head with her arms just as the debris landed on her, knocking her out almost instantly.

 _"Am I dead?" Natasha thought, her eyes opening to find herself in the old Avengers tower's common area. A sudden feeling of disappointment hit her, being killed by rocks seemed rather anticlimactic when compared to how she'd lived._

 _"No, you're not dead." A distorted voice said from the window. The figure was shrouded in darkness, and it was speaking Russian._

 _"Then where are we?" Natasha asked, switching languages easily enough as she looked around. Obviously she wasn't actually back the Avengers tower. "And who are you?" Natasha felt sick and cold and her head was killing her and being disoriented was more annoying than anything else._

 _"You never came to find me." The distorted voice ignored her questions, and that grabbed her attention._

 _Standing from the ground sent the room spinning, but Natasha didn't care. "Who are you?" The figure turned towards her, but she couldn't see it's face._

 _"You know who I am." Her heart was pounding out of her chest. "Now tell me, why did you never come find me?!" The faceless figure demanded angrily, the already distorted voice became even more distorted as it walked towards her. Natasha instinctively retreated, her uneasy feet finally gave out and she plummeted into another room.  
It took her clouded mind a minute to adjust and figure out where she was, but when she did it took the air out of her._

 _The Red room, it was cold, and dark and covered in a layer of dust. Natasha spotted a crib against the wall, it was Mikhail's, it HAD to be. Natasha ignored her instincts, which were telling her it was some sort of trap, and ran to the crib, but found it empty. "Where the dreamy Volga flows. There's a lonely Russian rose," A familiar voice sang out in a soft voice sang out._

 _Turning slowly she found the Winter Soldier, her baby in his arms, his eyes fixed on her. "Give me my son." Natasha demanded, her voice shaking. The man that had been the source of her nightmares her entire childhood didn't respond. "Give him to me!" She screamed, charging him on impulse. The Winter Soldier's left arm shot out and seized her by the neck and lifted her from the ground, the rest of the room fading away when he did so._

 _"You don't deserve him." He tightened his grip. Natasha let out a growl and swung her legs up, pulling the metal arm off her neck simultaneously as she pulled him into a triangle choke. "Agent Romanoff!" He choked out, but it was someone else's voice._

Her eyes snapped open, and the already pounding headache intensified as the real world came crashing back. "You're chokin' me!" A voice squeaked out from between her legs. Two blue eyes looked at her in shock as she had managed to pull one of the SEALs into a choke hold purely on reflex.

"Shit, sorry." She released the man and tried to scramble backwards but found it difficult to move. The falling rocks had broken a few ribs and her left wrist, and the room was spinning ever so slightly.

"Jeez," The man coughed with a laugh. "You gotta take me out to dinner BEFORE you choke me out." The small group of men laughed, but Natasha was in a haze, the emotions of loss, anger and regret that she'd been trying to suppress flooded her mind.

"Agent?" A concerned voice finally grabbed her attention, one of the SEALs crouched down next to her. "Can you walk?" Natasha nodded, leaning on her right arm and pushing herself up quickly, eager to get off the mountain. There was a Black Hawk helicopter circling outside the cave waiting for the small group, something she was grateful for.

An Army medic waiting on the helicopter went to work bandaging her left wrist and cleaning the blood that was running down her face as best he could. The young soldier wasn't any older than 19, and it made her think of Mikhail. She wondered what kind of man her son was growing up to be. Reclining in her seat she mentally made up her mind; she was going to find her son, even if it took the rest of her life and even if he rejected her. Natasha needed to find him.

* * *

It was late when May got home from Tony Stark's tower, where Peter would be staying for the night with Tony to make a few repairs to Peter's suit as well helping Peter with some homework. May didn't hate Tony, and she knew Peter needed a man in his life to look up too but couldn't it have been anyone else? Tony was famous for being womanizer, and had spent millions of dollars making her nephew a super hero suit.

May picked up a picture of her and Peter on Coney Island right after her husband passed away. "What am I gonna do with you?" Saying she was out of her depth was an understatement. She found raising a normal child difficult but Peter had acquired powers she couldn't comprehend, and had Ben's instincts to look out for everyone else first.

A sudden headache hit May, causing her to drop the picture in her hands and rubbing her temples. She'd dealt with migraines for a little over a year but nothing like this. Her knees hands trembled and her vision blurred as she stumbled backwards and tripped on the edge of the couch, hitting her head on the coffee table. "Peter..." She called out into the darkness of the apartment. She was alone, and her grasp on consciousness began slipping. "Peter!" She called out one last time, before finally everything went dark.

 _Author's Note: Hey everybody! So that's chapter 2, I meant to mention Peter struggling with sensory overload which is actually the first thing I thought of when he said his senses had been dialed to 11 in Civil War. I also wanted to say thank you to everyone who has followed and Favorited so far because I never expected this kind of response to this story. And it honestly made writing a little wracking because I don't want to disappoint you guys. Oh and I want to kind of explore artificial intelligence in this story so expect Karen and Friday to appear quite often. Please review if you have time, Im curious about how you guys feel about longer chapters because this was going to be longer but I didn't want to make it too long so let me know what you think. Ill update asap!_


	3. Lost Family

Chapter three: Lost Family

Tony and Peter worked on the Spider-Man suit well into the night, fixing a few of the small tears in the sturdy fabric. Tony noted that some of the internally wiring had been damaged by Peter's numerous falls. He'd have to figure out a way to reinforce the wiring so Peter's suits internal functions wouldn't just go out on him one day. "It seems like after all this time you'd be better at the web swinging thing." Tony turned towards the young man to find him sound asleep, his arms acting as pillows under his head. Tony smiled slightly, he'd never seen Peter sleep before, and according to Happy he had been awake for the entire flight to Germany.

"I guess everyone runs out of energy at some point." Tony whispered to himself as he slipped his black suit jacket off and draped it over Peter's shoulders. Deciding they could finish in the morning since they were giving Peter the day off school; the kid needed a day to actually relax.

"You have an incoming call, boss." Friday's heavy Irish accent rang out in the workshop.

"SHHHH!" Tony hissed, spinning towards Peter, who was still sleeping. Letting out a sigh of relief Tony left the work shop. "Who the hell is calling me at 4 o'clock in the morning?" Tony questioned as he tapped the holographic screen to view the caller. "Flushing Hospital Medical Center?" Pepper was at the Avengers Facility upstate, which had a medical center on it so who could be calling him from there? "Stark speaking." Tony answered the call with a confused tone.

"Yes, Mr. Stark, the is Dr. Palmer at Metro-general hospital, I'm looking for Peter Parker and I was told he was most likely with you." The doctor spoke quickly.

"Uh," Tony hesitated. "He's here, what can I do for you?" Now he was really confused, what could they need from Peter?

"May Parker was brought here by ambulance and-" Tony immediately cut her off.

"We'll be there in 20 minutes, make sure your landing pad is clear." And with that Tony ended the call and rushed back into the workshop. "Peter, Peter wake up we gotta go." Tony shook the teen awake.

"Wha-" Peter's head shot off his arms, wiping the drool from his chin. "Oh I'm sorry Mr. Stark, I didn't mean to fall asleep." He began apologizing.

"Peter, your Aunt is in the hospital, we need to go. Now." Tony practically dragged Peter out of the chair and to the elevator, taking them to the roof. Peter insisted he could get there faster by himself, but Tony assured him that would blow his cover. "We can get there the fastest flying." He promised him as the two scrambled into the helicopter.

The flight was short but tense, and silent aside from Peter's feet tapping on the floor. Usually Tony would have snapped at him and told him to knock it off but this was different. May was the only family Peter had, and if something happened to her... Tony didn't want to think about how devastated the kid would be.  
The helicopter reached the hospital in 20 minutes, and as the helicopter began it's decent towards the roof Peter lost his patience and forced the door open. "Peter wait!" Tony tried to stop him as Peter jumped a good 15 feet to the platform below.

Peter made his way through the hospital as fast as his legs would carry him until he made it to the emergency room. "I'm looking for May Parker?" He questioned the nurse frantically, his desperation and fear obvious to anyone who looked at him.

"Mr. Parker?" A woman called to him before the confused nurse could answer. Peter nodded anxiously. "Mr. Parker, I'm Doctor Christine Palmer, we need to have a word, in private." The doctor directed Peter to an exam room and closing the curtain to only have Tony yank it back open and waltz into the room. "Uh, Mr. Stark I need a moment alone with Mr. Parker." Dr. Palmer placed a hand on his chest to try and push him from the room. Peter let a low growl escape his throat.

"Just tell me what's going on with my Aunt May!" Peter yelled, he was having an anxiety attack and it was putting his already heightened senses on alert.

The doctor sighed, running her hand through her light red hair. "Your Aunt fainted, and a neighbor heard her yelling for you." Peter felt sick when he heard that. He should have been home with her. "We did an MRI when she arrived here, and we discovered a tumor in her brain." Tony gasped slightly, but he kept his face strong as he gripped Peter's shoulder when the boy stumbled back and leaned against the exam table, having the wind taken from his lungs. "I know this is a lot to take in, just remember that people beat this everyday." Peter stayed quiet, his hands visibly trembling. "When you're ready she's in room 616." Dr. Palmer, gave Peter a consolation sigh as she left him in the small room.

The two stayed in silence for a long time, Tony never releasing his hold on Peter's shoulder. "I need to make a call, Pete, take a minute before you go see her." Peter turned to his mentor, tears threatening to spill out onto his reddened cheeks. "She needs your strength now." Tony left the small room. "Friday, get me a list of the best hospitals for Neurology, and find me one with an open space." Tony ordered the AI he carried with him in his phone.

Peter made his way to May's room, praying to wake up from this and have it all be some horrible nightmare. "Hey, Pete." May's sweet voice called out, he hadn't even realized he'd walked into the room. Her head had white bandaging around it, and she looked exhausted, but she had a warm smile on her face as she extended her hand to Peter. Peter pulled a chair up to the side of the bed and took her hand.

Peter felt like he was 6 years old again, finding out his parents had been killed in an accident. He felt alone, and afraid. But this was different, before he'd had his Uncle Ben and his Aunt May to lean on. If something happened to May he'd be all alone. He was the last Parker. "Pete, I need to tell you something," She paused closing her eyes as tight as she could. Ben had promised Richard to never tell Peter this, but she didn't want Peter to think he was all alone if something happened to her. "I don't know how to say this." Again she stopped, wishing wishing it was an easier thing to say.

The longer she took to speak the more anxious Peter got, his mouth dried out and he could feel his hands getting clammy. "What is it?" Peter asked, squeezing her hand tighter.

"How ya holding up?" Tony's voice broke the somber silence when he entered the room, taking a seat near the door.

May sighed, slightly annoyed by his intrusion but smiled warmly at the man. "I'm okay. Just tired." She lied, trying to be strong for the boy she'd raised.

"We're having you transferred to the Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore tomorrow morning." May raised an eye brow, a tad confused. "They're one the best in the country when it comes to handling brain tumors." Peter turned towards Tony.

"I can't afford that." Which was true, she could barely afford medication when she got colds let alone going to one of the best hospital in the country.

Tony shrugged. "That's okay, you're not paying for it." Peter gasped and released May's hand, jumping to his feet he threw his arms around Tony's neck. Tony, who wasn't the most affectionate man on the planet, but he allowed his arm to wrap around the teen.

"Mr. Stark," May spoke up. "Can I have a minute alone with Peter please?" She was anxious, and it showed in her tone and in her eyes.

"Of course." Tony could released Peter and quietly exited the room.

May exhaled thankfully and gestured for Peter to retake the seat next to her bed. "What I'm about to say is probably going to be really confusing, and hard to hear, and I wasn't supposed to tell you, but I think you have a right to know." With one more deep breath she went for it. "You were adopted as a baby, Peter." The teen sat back in his seat. It felt like someone had punched him in the stomach.

"So," Peter paused a hand unconsciously gripping the side of his own head. "Where are my real parents?" There were a million questions swirling around his brain. If they'd kept this from him for so long, what else could they be hiding?

"I don't know," May spoke honestly. "They never said anything about your real Father, and all I know about your real Mother, is that they were afraid of her." May watched Peter as his brilliant but young mind tried to make sense of all of this.

"You said you weren't supposed to tell me. Why?" Peter's eyes finally met May's. They showed his confusion and his pain, this was a lot for anyone to take in, let alone a 15 year old kid who thought his parents were dead for nearly 10 years.  
Suddenly he felt like he was 6 years old again. All the feelings of being lost and alone flooding his heart all over again.

"Your Uncle Ben and I made a promise to your parents that if anything ever happened to them that we would take care of and protect you. They didn't want you to know you were adopted because they were afraid you'd find out who your true Mother was." She paused, a feeling of guilt rushing over her but she pushed that feeling to the back of her mind. "I don't want to think you're all alone in the world if I don't beat this." May found herself choking on the words as they came pouring out.

Peter moved from his seat and sat on the bed next to May, who instinctively began rubbing his back. The look of hurt and confusion on his young face made May cringe. She just wanted to give him all the answers that she didn't have. "Should I try to find her?" Peter asked, knowing she wouldn't know what to tell him. "There must be a reason they were so afraid of her, right?" Peter tried to rationalize why they'd lied to him.

"I don't know, Pete." May again realized how out of her depth she was. "I want to believe their fear was backed with a rational explanation but, I don't know. Just know that whatever you decide to do I will always have your back." She spoke kindly, knowing his heart must be breaking in his chest. To have spent so many years having the truth kept from him was hard enough on her, she couldn't imagine how he must have felt.

Another wave of anxiety rushed over the teen. "What if she doesn't want me?" Peter asked with a quivering breath. If his real Mom was alive, did she give him up because she didn't want him?

May reached her hand across Peter's chest and gripped his chin her fingers, forcing him to look at her. "If she doesn't want you, it's her loss, not yours." She assured him in the sweetest voice she could, brushing the tears on his cheeks away with the back of her hand. "I can't tell you what to do, but if you decide to look for her your Uncle Ben kept a box of your Dad's research journals in the attic in my room. There might be something in it that could help." Peter let out a quivering breath. "Come here." May ordered ordered softly, pulling him into her and allowing him to sob softly in to her chest. Peter could figure everything out later, right now he needed to be a kid for a minute.

* * *

The Hammer Industries ware house was impressive. They even had a room set up for him hidden in the back of the facility. "Georges Batroc!" A slim, eccentric man exclaimed as he came into the small white room. "I have to say I'm a huge fan!" Hammer was wealthy, that was obvious and obviously knew who he was, but why did he break him out of prison? Batroc chose to stay quiet but did flash a small smile. "I mean 36 kill missions and then to go toe-to-toe with Captain freaking America?" Hammer looked to the two guards, who stood shoulder to shoulder just behind him. Batroc took note of the file tucked under one the men's arm and the hand guns they both carried. "Where are my manners? I'm Justin Hammer, but please call me Justin!" He extended his slim hands, which were stained with spray tanner he used.

Batroc took Hammer's hand and with one swift motion yanked him forward and tossed him onto the twin bed. The guards both went for their guns but Batroc was faster and better trained than them. He pulled the first into a head lock and snapped his neck, before front kicking the other off his feet and into the wall. Leaping forward he drove his knee into the man's head, crushing his skull between it and the concrete wall with a _Splat!_

Batroc turned his attention to Justin. "Tell me, little man, what is it you want?" Batroc spoke with a heavy accent but his English was good. With one hand he pull the Browning 9mm pistol out of the holster on the now dead man's hip and chambered a round.

"I-I-I-" Hammer couldn't get his eyes off his dead guard.

"You freed me, why?" Batroc wrapped a hand around Hammer's neck and pressed him against the wall. He could have choked the life from the trembling man's body if he'd wanted too. "I won't ask again." With that he pressed the barrel of the gun to Hammer's head.

"Because I need someone like you to kill Tony Stark for me!" Batroc loosened his grip and lowered the gun.

"You want me to kill the Iron Man for you?" Batroc scoffed. "What interest would I have in that?" Hammer smiled, though his face was turning red and his eyes bulged slightly.

"Attacking the remaining Avengers will draw Captain America out of hiding, I'm sure of it." Hammer began tapping frantically on the hand around his neck, his vision was tunneling from the lack of oxygen to his brain.

Batroc knew he was right, Cap loved his friends, even now. "So that's what you released me for? To kill your enemies and to take your revenge?" Hammer nodded quickly. "Ugh, vengeance is boring" Batroc sighed and pulled the smaller man to his feet.

Justin was confused. Didn't he want to take revenge against the man that'd got him locked up in a federal penitentiary? "You don't want to kill Captain Rogers?" He questioned the killer in a disappointed tone. Using that to mask his terror.

"Of course I want to kill him. But not for vengeance, or money. I want to kill him to be known as the man that killed the famous Captain America." Batroc wrapped an arm around Justin's waist and pulled him closer. "Okay, little man, Ill kill them for your enemies for you. Just know, little man, that if you betray me I will gut you like a fish and string you up for the world to see. Yeah?" Batroc spoke into the man who'd freed him's ear. His tone hushed, but menacing. The mercenary waited for him to respond but all he got was a quick nod of his head, Hammer was too afraid to speak.

"I need a team, and I need weapons." Batroc said as he slapped Justin on his back, causing him to whimper slightly. "You can get me weapons easily enough, but I need killers." Batroc noted that not all mercenaries were like him. If they were going to kill the Avengers they needed to be ruthless, they needed to kill with hesitation. "And Captain Rogers and Agent Romanoff are mine." Justin nodded quickly, adjusting his tie nervously.

"Anything you need." Batroc was quiet after that, busying himself with collecting the papers from the file that had been strewn across the small room. "So, I'm-I'm just gonna go." Justin quickly left the room, exhaling heavily and struggling not to sob. The adrenaline wearing off and the emotions of having his life threatened and two men killed in front of him catching up to him.  
Georges Batroc was far more unpredictable than he'd anticipated, and wasn't interested in money. He was a mercenary because he liked killing, and wanted to kill Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff for the sport. Georges wasn't motivated by a not for revenge.

* * *

"Ya know, Romanoff, I realize you like being vague and it's part of your mystique. But it's a long drive up here for an old man like me." Nick Fury announced his entrance to the medical center on the Avengers facility. Natasha chuckled, noting he had traded in his black leather coat for a grey colored pea coat. Less intimidating, and more appropriate considering he wasn't the director of SHIELD anymore.

"Yeah well I don't need anyone hearing our conversation." Natasha spoke through a grimace as the nurse finished casting her wrist. She'd be healed in a few weeks but it was an inconvenience she didn't need right now.

"So what can I do for you?" Nick asked, helping Natasha off the gurney and onto her uneasy legs and following her outside.

"Do you remember 13 years ago after Clint brought me in when you sent a team in to eliminate the Red Room?" Natasha asked, knowing he'd remember.

"Yes, I do." Nick eyed her curiously. "And you begged me to send you in with Clint and the Strike team." Natasha chuckled at that. There were few times in her life she'd begged for anything but that was one she wasn't ashamed of.

"But you said no because you were worried about where my allegiance lied." Nick enjoyed trips down memory lane just as much as the next guy. But Natasha was beginning to make the man nervous.

"Natasha." Nick called to her by her first name, something he rarely did, as they entered the main building. "What's this about?" Natasha, who Nick had know for a long time was uncharacteristically quiet. Her movements were ridged and it wasn't being caused by her injuries.

"Was there a little boy being kept at the Red Room?" She asked outright.

Nick nodded slowly, watching her pace back and forth. "Why?" He questioned.

Natasha ignored his question. Nick Fury was a smart man, he'd put the pieces together on his own. "Where is he now?" She tried not to demand answers from him. "SHIELD must have kept records on who had him, right?"

"Why the sudden interest in this, Romanoff?" Nick's stern voice carried a hint of concern, though his eye showed suspicion.

"Please," Begrudgingly, Natasha began to plead with him. "I need to know what happened to my baby." The word came out of her mouth without her realizing she'd said it. "Shit." She swore, turning away from the closest thing to a Father figure she had.

"Your BABY?" Nick gasped slightly. "You never thought of telling me your son was there when you begged me to send you in?" Nick was disappointed and slightly hurt that she hadn't told him about her motherhood until now.

"I was a stupid kid, Nick!" Natasha could feel his disappointment. "I thought he'd be better off with someone else, but I wanted to decide who got him. Maybe-" Natasha stopped, grabbing a handful of her own hair in her good hand. "I know this sounds stupid, and a waste of time but I need to see him. I can't continue to only acknowledge his existence when I'm alone." Nick took a minute to process everything and tried to think back on the boy he'd met only once.

"If you'd told me about him, I would have let you go." Nick sighed, thinking back on Natasha's pleas to be sent out on the mission. She'd been just a 19 year old child back then, and he'd assumed she was just out for revenge. "I don't know where he is, I know he was taken in by two SHIELD scientists who lived in Queens, but any other info on him would have been boxed up and taken to the Damage Control Facility in New York City." Nick watched the spy intently.

"God-" Natasha began cursing under her breath, racking her emotionally exhausted brain. Those records were sealed and totally off limits without permission from the Director Anne Hoag or Tony. Anne Hoag would demand an explanation that Natasha wouldn't be willing to provide and Tony would cite her betrayal and refuse. Regardless of her explanation.

Nick took the opportunity to stroll up to her side while she was distracted. "This might come as a surprise but I do care about you." It was true that he wasn't the most approachable person on the planet but he did care about her. He cared about every member of the team he'd put together, and would do anything he could to protect and help them. "I'd bet my last dollar that you could swipe an access card from Tony if you put your mind too it." Natasha chuckled at his suggestion. Of course she could steal an ID card from Tony.

"If I get caught it'll confirm everything Tony already thinks about me." Natasha turned towards him, hoping silently for any kind of reassurance. The light reflecting off the deep blue bruises that spotted her pale skin.

That was true and they both knew it, Tony was far from forgiving and was constantly waiting for Natasha to slip up so he could kick her off the team. "This is different. When it comes to your kids," Nick paused looking down at the young woman he'd truly watched grow up. He didn't have any children of his own, he'd lost his youth to his work and by the time he wanted to settle down it was too late. The Avengers, though all the ones he'd recruited were adults, were as close as he'd get. "You do what you gotta do."

 _Author's Note: So Ill end chapter 3 here. I was going to make it longer but Im on 60 hour work weeks right now and I wanted to get this posted. And if you're wondering about Batroc I found the whole vengeance thing over used and I wanted to take his character in a different direction. Same goes for Aunt May being sick. I wanted to avoid the someone hurts her and Peter seeks revenge story line. Anyway, please read and review! Ill update asap!_


	4. No Roads Home

Chapter Four: No Roads Home

Georges Batroc and his new accomplice, Justin Hammer had flown to New York during the week. The mercenary had found a cell of a cult know as the United Order that had sprung up after the battle in New York. Many people believed that the Chitauri weren't aliens, but demons and it was the Rapture the Avengers had stopped.  
Justin was more nervous than he cared to admit while driving down the dimly lit street of the urban New York city neighborhood. Going to anything remotely religious was something he hadn't willingly done since he was a boy, and interrupting a cult meeting seemed rather risky.

The younger man in the passenger seat picked up on Justin's anxiousness before they had even landed at JFK airport. "You're nervous." Batroc finally spoke, breaking the silence of the SUV. "Why?" Justin held back a scoff.

"We are interrupting a CULT meeting in the middle of the night in a bad neighborhood in New York city. You tell me, Georgie, why am I nervous." Batroc laughed and pulled the 9mm off his hip, causing Justin to flinch.

"Relax," He assured him, passing him the pistol. "Ever shot a gun before?" Justin shook his head, amazed the mercenary had willingly given him a gun. It was either a sign of trust, or a sign that Batroc wasn't in anyway afraid of him. Neither of which was a comforting thought. "It's easy." Batroc grabbed his thin hands and guided him on how to chamber a round and how to turn off the safety. Justin was perplexed by the younger mercenary. He had threatened to murder him a mere 3 days earlier, and had made it rather clear that he'd kill him without a seconds hesitation. Justin figured the man hated him the way Ivan Vanko had hated him, but now he wasn't sure what to think.

They reached a small warehouse, which had been abandoned years earlier. Georges cracked his neck before jumping out of the black SUV. "Hey, wait." Justin decided to truly let out his grievance with the plan. "Are you sure these zealots will be on our side?" Justin glance at the dark building, his heart racing in his chest. "I mean sure they want to kill the Avengers too but they think doing so will bring about the end of the world." Justin sighed. "These people aren't warriors, they're morons. And not exactly what comes to mind as a group to help bring down the Avengers." Batroc turned back to him.

"They're cannon fodder! Ill have a team of real mercenaries but we'll need the numbers if we want to stand a chance against them." The cold, calculated mercenary showed through when he spoke. "They'll be useful because they don't value their own life anymore than I value their lives." There was a silence between them. Justin wasn't a soldier, nor was he a killer, not a real one anyway. The thought of using people as expendable pieces in a plan to kill their enemies seemed... Evil. "You disapprove." Georges put his hands on his hips, taking in a deep exaggerated breath of the cool fall air.

"Uh," Justin laughed chuckled, tilting his head at him. "Yeah I'd say so. You're talking about using the religious fanatics to help us kill the Avengers, something I remind you, that they haven't agreed too yet. KNOWING they'll die." The small smile and look of amusement on the face of Batroc were both unsettling and insulting.

"And you had me kill the man who secured my release to tie up a loose end. You're having me kill a man you feel wronged you, yes?" Batroc asked rhetorically. "I understand you've never dealt death first hand. But I've been doing it since I was barely a man." He paused with a sigh. He hoped he wouldn't have explain something that seemed so obvious. "I need you to trust me when I say this is how it has to be. And hey!" He smiled putting his hand on Justin's slim shoulder. "If worst comes to worst, Ill just slaughter them myself. Deal?" He wasn't actually asking him. The one sided conversation was over, so Justin begrudgingly followed the more experienced man into the dark building.

The inside of the building was filled with the pungent stench of rotting wood. There were voices echoing through the ruins from the upper floor, which they followed. Which creaked beneath their feet as they ascended to the second story. Justin pulled a cloth from his pocket and breathed through, he wasn't sure how Georges could stand the odor.  
The voices grew louder as they approached a door, a dim light came from beneath the rusty metal door. Justin expected a brief meeting with his associate but instead Georges swung the door open, to the dismay of 30 cultist. All but 2 of them were dressed in bright white robes, and were circled around a man on a makeshift stage. _"Bonsoir!"_ Georges switched back to his native tongue just briefly.

The obvious leader of the zealots stepped towards them, anger on his pale face. "You dare interrupt a holy meeting?" He questioned them. Batroc didn't speak, his eyes sizing up each member. They varied from the leader, a heavy set middle aged man with a shaved head, to a young woman who wasn't any older the 20 with beautiful curly brown hair. "Judging by your demeanor, you aren't here by accident." The man paused glancing behind Batroc at Justin Hammer, who was visibly shaking and cowering behind the calm and collected Batroc. "You must be very brave, or very stupid." There was an uneasiness among the cultists, who exchanged looks of shock. "Well, either way, you've found our place of worship, so I cannot allow you to leave." The man nodded to two men, who were dressed in black robes, which differed from the white robes that adorned the rest of the group. "Please, give the good Lord my regards when you meet him." Batroc cracked his neck, and pushed Justin back.

Georges approached the men, who brandished ball-peen hammers. Saying being killed with one of those would be a gruesome death is an understatement. The two men made the first move, swinging their hammers in a downward motion at Georges. "Predictable." He scoffed jumping backwards and countering with a swift front kick to one man's face. His boot broke the man's nose, and several teeth, when it landed. Causing the man to drop his hammer and clutch his bloody mouth and nose, letting out a muffled sob as he writhed on the ground.

The other man couldn't seem to peel his eyes off his comrade. Swallowing hard he put on a brave face as Batroc scooped the hammer off the floor. Inspecting it he found the remnants of dried blood; they weren't the first to find this place. The others weren't so lucky, obviously. The two circled each other, the hammer the religious zealot was holding trembled in his grip. "Kill him!" The Cult leader commanded. Acting without thinking he lunged forward, swinging wildly.  
Batroc avoided the the first few strikes with ease, before finally catching him by the wrist. Batroc didn't kill him, choosing instead to sweep his feet and breaking the hand holding the hammer.

"I have a proposition for you." Georges spoke to the leader, pinning the only threat to him beneath his boot. "You wish to kill the Avengers, but you lack the weapons and Intel necessary, _oui_?" Letting out an uneasy breath he nodded. "We've come to offer you assistance." The room stayed silent, aside from the muffled sobs and groans of Georges adversaries.

"You're quite the fighter, but how exactly do you plan on killing ALL of the Avengers?" A fair question. The Avengers had defeated Ultron and his entire army of robots, and Loki, a demi-God and an army of alien invaders.

"My associate back there," He gestured back to Justin, who waved awkwardly. "Is Justin Hammer, founder and CEO of Hammer Industries. He will provide you with weapons and I will train you to use those weapons." His interest was visibly peaked upon realizing who Justin was.

"And you?" The man inquired. "Who are you?" Batroc smirked.

"I am Georges Batroc, I am a former member of the DGSE." He paused noticing a look of confusion on the group's faces. Holding back a sigh he tried to figure out a way to explain it these people, most of whom had probably never even left the country. _"Cher Dieu,"_ he laughed running his free hand over his shaved head. "I was the French Foreign Legion's equivalent to the Navy SEAL." he paused thinking back on his years spent in the service. "I was the best. And I still am." With one swift motion the leader jumped from his place on the stage and onto the floor.

"The invasion of the demons from the sky was supposed to be man kind's reckoning." The man spoke in a hushed tone. "The Avengers refused to bend to God's will and then God sent Ultron, and again the Avengers defied him." He finally reached Georges, who was a few inches shorter than himself. Locking eyes they both smiled, sizing the other up. "For this the Avengers must pay. But, I must ask, why do _YOU_ , want them dead? I know why Mr. Hammer wants them dead, but what is your reason?" Georges smiled and shrugged.

"Do we have a deal?" Georges wasn't interested in being mentally dissected by the leader of a cult.

With a smile the man responded. "Do we a have a choice?" Justin watched in shock. A few minutes ago this man was trying to have them beaten to death with hammers, and now he was standing face to face with Georges Batroc. A man who while the spoke had one of his members pinned to the floor.

Georges chuckled. "Not really, no." He spoke honestly, if they refused his offer he'd have to slaughter them.

"Then I supposed we have a deal."

* * *

It was late, or early, depending on who you asked, and Peter was reading through one of his adoptive Father's many journals. Richard Parker had been meticulous with his record keeping, apparently. The man wrote down EVERYTHING; what he had for breakfast, lunch and dinner. What experiments he was working on, his feelings, everything. All complete with a date and time, which Peter realized would be helpful. But even after sorting out the journals his Mom's identity couldn't be in, it still left him with 87 journals and video logs to search through.

"Peter?" Karen's concerned voice caused him to jump slightly. He'd put the mask on for Karen's company and forgotten he was wearing it.

"Yeah?" He responded, flipping to the next page.

"This isn't healthy, Peter, you haven't slept in nearly 2 days." Peter opened his mouth to argue but realized she was right. The days and nights had begun to blur together and so had Peter's vision. But the young hero was determined to find out his true heritage; he'd sleep when he found what he was after.

"Ill sleep when I find her." Peter repeated the thought aloud, shaking his head to keep himself awake.

"Destroying yourself won't bring you to your destination. You need to sleep, and you need to go to school." Peter scoffed at that. He wasn't going to school anytime soon, even Mr. Stark realized that when he'd offered to let him stay at the compound upstate. Peter'd refused and decided to stay at the apartment he shared with May. "The people of New York are worried about you, too." Peter cocked his head back, confused. "It's been a week since the last Spider-Man sighting. People are beginning to worry you're not coming back." The teen was losing himself, and she knew it.

Peter laid his head back, allow it to hit the wall a bit harder than he'd anticipated. For an AI, Karen was surprisingly crafty. "Fine, Ill get some sleep and then Ill take a night off from this, okay?" Peter reluctantly closed the notebook.

"Thank you!" Karen sounded rather pleased with herself. "Sleep tight, Peter." Peter removed the mask and climbed from his spot on the floor and into his bed. He hadn't realized how tired he was until he was in his bed. The weight of his worries seemed to be lifted from him as he slipped quickly into a deep sleep.

 _Peter followed the sound of a woman singing down a hallway he recognized, but had no memory of. The voice was singing a soft lullaby in Russian, a language he had a passing familiarity with, but couldn't actually speak. Finally finding the source in an open room filled with small cots. The woman stopped singing when he entered the room, but didn't acknowledge him, her eyes fixed on the toddler in one of the beds. "Is-is that little boy... me?" He questioned aloud._

 _He squinted, but couldn't make out any of her features. he was frustrated but remained quiet as he watched. "Mommy loves you, little one." The woman spoke English when talking to the boy. "Always remember that." There was touch of sadness in her soft voice. Peter began walking towards her as she stood from the bed._

 _"Mom!?" He cried out as the floor beneath his feet was yanked out like a rug, the room extending. Peter face planted, but quickly jumped to his feet and began sprinting after the woman. "That's her!" Peter thought sliding around the corner into the hallway. "It has to be her!" Again, the room extended both in front and behind him and again it pulled his feet from under him. Managing this time to catch himself, Peter resumed running after the quickly disappearing silhouette._

 _"Wait!" He practically begged. "Please!" Peter was getting more and more frustrated, he wasn't making any ground as the floor became like a treadmill that he couldn't get off. Finally he took two bounding steps and jumped as hard as he could, but the world around him faded away when he propelled himself after the woman._

Peter snapped out of his dream and back to the reality just as his face met the closed door of his bed room. "Ow.." Peter winced, knowing he'd have a bruise from that.

"What was that?" Peter questioned. That wasn't a dream, it was something else. Something more real. A memory perhaps? Peter knew that place, he wasn't sure how, but that was more than just a dream.

* * *

Clint cherished sleep more than most anything else. Having spent years of his life on missions where he wouldn't sleep for days on end and then coming home to a young family made him appreciate it. And after welcoming Nathaniel to the family had made a full nights sleep a rarity. So saying being woken up at the crack of dawn to his cell phone ringing was agitating was an understatement. "Hello?" Clint answered the phone, his annoyance evident in his tired voice.

"Morning old man." Natasha responded with slight laugh. "You busy?" There was a moment of silence between them.

"Nat? You're sure no one's listening, right?" The tired man stood from his bed and made his way to the window. "I'd rather avoid scaring my family by having me get arrested in front of them." Clint's eyes scanned the grounds of his property, which was blanketed in a thin layer of fresh snow that'd fallen the night before.

She scoffed slightly. "Yes, Clint, because I'm going to call you from an unsecured line and get you caught. Way to have a lot of faith in me, partner." Natasha's feelings were actually rather hurt by that. "And you have know that Tony knows where you are. Going home wasn't that surprising, old man." Natasha poked fun at her oldest friend, and calm for the first time in 2 weeks.

"Alright, watch it." Clint laughed, quietly exiting the room he shared with his wife. "What do you need?" He asked, knowing she hadn't reached out to him for the first time in almost a year simply to chat.

And just like that the calmness she felt was again replaced with anxiety. "Can I come up?" She asked tentatively. "It's a lot to explain over the phone." She knew he'd say yes, of course. Clint had made her a promise when he brought her in to be there for her with whatever she needed, something he'd never failed to make good on.

"Uh, yeah, sure thing, Nat." Clint could hear the anxiousness in her voice. They'd fought aliens and killer robots and she'd never once sounded nervous. Something was up. "Everything alright, Nat?" Natasha didn't respond at first, which made Clint worry.

"Yeah." She tried to mask her emotions. It was usually easy to hide how she felt, but Clint saw through her emotionless facade.

"So how do you wanna do this?" He changed the subject, opting to wait till he say her face to face to pry.

"Ill say I got deployed on another assignment and take a Quinjet." She spoke honestly, knowing the only person who might question it was Tony who was off in Baltimore. The two said quick goodbye's.  
Clint returned to his bedroom and sat down on the end of the bed. "Who was that?" Laura questioned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"It was Nat. She's coming up." Clint was replaying their brief conversation in his head.

"Oh that'll be nice. The kids miss her." His wife smiled at him.

"She sounded nervous." Laura sat up, watching her husband curiously. "I've never heard her that nervous."

* * *

 _"It's been 1 week since former DGSE operative turned mercenary and pirate escaped from the maximum security prison behind me. The police and FBI still have no leads as of righ now and are calling on the public to come forward with information leading to his capture."_ Steve watched the news on an old TV in barn Clint had converted into living quarters for him, Bucky and Sam. Wanda had been given the spare bedroom in the house, something Sam had voiced his displeasure with. And Scott, well he just said he wanted to go home and if they needed him again they'd be able to find him. Steve wasn't really sure what that meant.

Steve thought back on his fight with the Merc on the Lemurian Star. The only non enhanced person to ever hold their own with him in hand to hand combat was back on the loose, something that made Rogers very nervous. Not for himself, he knew no one would ever find this place. But Georges Batroc was one of the most dangerous men he'd ever encountered; and that's saying something. Cap's thoughts were interrupted by the barn door being pulled open, letting a gust of icy wind. Sam and Bucky both voiced their annoyance with it, tucking themselves further into their beds. "Morning, Cap." Clint announced his entrance, shaking the snow off his shoulders.

"You're up early." Steve remarked noting he was usually up a few hours earlier than everyone else.

"Yeah I just wanted to let you know that Nat's gonna be up here later." Steve raised an eye brow at that.

"Stark coming too?" He asked the obvious question.

Clint shook his head. "No, just Natasha. If Stark really wanted another round with you I doubt he'd bring Natasha along." Steve nodded. He was pretty sure that if Tony had wanted to find him that he would have by now. That didn't mean Tony forgave him but he wasn't actively trying to capture him, so it was a step in the right direction. Wasn't it?  
The next few hours dragged by, Clint was worried about Natasha. It was obvious by him sitting on the porch alone in the cold waiting for the Quinjet to come. Finally the Quinjet came over the horizon, flying just above the tree line before landing near the barn.  
Natasha exited the Quinjet out into the cold air with a smile upon seeing Clint.

"You look like shit." Clint noted the fading yellow bruises and cuts on her face and the cast on her wrist. She looked like she'd been to hell and back.

"Yeah, yeah." Natasha brushed it off and gave him a warm hug. Clint allowed Natasha to take the lead as they walked towards a small trail near his home. One they'd walked together when she'd have nightmares about her past. "Do you remember when we met?" She asked, knowing he did.

He laughed. "Of course I do." he thought back on the memory with fondness. "I was sent to kill you, and you knew I was coming. You could have killed me, but you didn't." The two spies looked at each other before speaking in unison.

"I thought SHIELD had more respect for me than this." They laughed, remembering how little she thought of Clint. She'd assumed when the US would come for her, something she knew to be inevitable at the time, that they'd send a team. Not one man, armed with a bow.

"I never asked, why did you spare me?" Clint sighed, knowing she'd ask this question one day.

"I joined the Army because of school and I wanted a better life." Clint thought back on his days as an Army sharpshooter. "I had a choice to get out after my 4 years was up but I stayed, because I wanted to stay. I made that call." He let a small sigh. "But there you were, this kid who'd been forced to do horrible things and I saw the guilt and self hatred in your eyes. The part of you that _WANTED_ me to kill you." Natasha swallowed hard. Those feelings hadn't changed, she'd just gotten better at hiding them. "I saw it in myself everyday, and I chose that life. But you didn't." Their eyes met. Clint had killed people, and even if he felt justified in it the taking of another person's life eventually takes it's toll. "You weren't evil, you were misguided. And I don't know," He paused reflecting on it. "I thought maybe if I could save you from the KGB it might atone for some of the things I've done." There was a silence between them. The unspoken truth that he'd saved her, something she'd never thanked him for, because she didn't have too.

The two stayed like that for a long time, just walking quietly through the forest enjoying the company of the other. "There's something I need to tell you," Natasha finally cut through the silence, her voice shaking a bit. Clint's eyes were on her, a look of worry and curiosity on his face. "I should have told you about this a long time ago. But the little boy you rescued from the Red Room." Her voice trailed off as she reached into the green jacket she was wearing. She handed Clint one of the old Polaroids she'd kept. "He was mine." Natasha was nervous for his response. She knew he wouldn't be angry, but maybe he'd be disappointed in her for not going to find him sooner?

Clint didn't respond, staring at the photo in his hands for longer than Natasha would have liked. Natasha couldn't have been any older than 17 in the picture and there was a warm smile on her face, her eyes fixed on the little brown haired boy in her arms.

"You're fuckin' with me." His eyes finally came away from the picture. A look of astonishment on his face.

"No," She laughed. "No, Clint, I'm not." The look of astonishment faded to look of happiness, before quickly souring. Her heart sunk for a moment. What if he WAS angry? "You were the last person I know to see him, and you're my best friend so I'm hoping maybe you could help me out." Natasha explained quickly, but getting more and more nervous the longer he was silent.

Suddenly Clint threw his arms around her and pulled her into the tightest hug she'd ever been given. He finally released the hug but kept his hands on her arms, a wide smile on his face. "Nat, you're a Mom!" The spy was over joyed.

"Clint." Natasha tried to hide the smile that was spreading across her lips. This wasn't the intended result of telling him, and as happy as his excitement made her it wasn't getting her any closer to finding her son.

"Right, sorry." He apologized, straightening out his blue jacket. "I gave him to a couple of SHIELD scientists, who couldn't have a baby of their own." Natasha sighed. Nick had already told her that much. "I don't remember much about them, other than the first name of the scientist. Richard." Clint knew it wasn't much, and he wished he'd remembered more about them. Seeing the disappointed look on her face he thought of what to say to keep her spirits up. "Nat, you'll find him." He tried to catch her gaze, but she kept her green eyes averted. "Let's head back and get some lunch and we can figure out the next move, okay?" the younger spy nodded her agreements as they turned and headed back down the snow covered path.

* * *

It was colder than Peter had expected when he'd set out for a night of hero work. It took his mind off his worries mostly, and a night and days sleep had him feeling more like himself; more like Spider-Man. Peter knew a Wednesday night in Queens wouldn't be hot spot for crime so he decided to head towards Brooklyn.

After nearly an hour of swinging through the quiet streets of New York he stumbled upon 8 men hastily unloading a white van. "Karen, can you tell me what's in the bags?" Peter asked, noticing how much trouble they were having hauling the bags into the building.

"It appears they contain weapons." She quickly analyzed the bags. "The weapons are military grade, so they're almost certainly stolen." Karen was quick to point out.

"Alright!" Peter quietly celebrated, he hadn't thwarted any serious crimes since stopping Toomes. Shooting a web across the street to the building they were carrying the duffel bags into, Peter swung down quickly and knocked one of the men off his feet and into the brick wall of the apartment building. "Evening fellas, getting in kinda late aren't ya?" Peter quipped, webbing the two men in the back of the van as they reached for their weapons.

An alarm went off in Peter's head, just as a boot connected with the left side of his rib cage, knocking him onto the cold asphalt. Peter's eyes came up to the man responsible. He stood in a boxers stance with his hands up high, ready to engage with the famous Spider-Man. His maroon jacket stood out from the back the rest of the men were wearing, and he bounced on the balls of his feet which suggested training. "Peter.." Karen's voice sounded oddly worried. "That's Georges Batroc." Peter became distracted for a split second. And his attacker noticed this and moved in for another attack.

Peter jumped off the ground and out of the path of the over hand right coming at him. But the man was fast, and timed a spinning elbow, which connected perfectly with Peter's nose. Again, the boy was on the ground. This time he could taste blood running down the back of his throat and he felt.. Fear. Again Karen began to plead with him. "Peter! RUN!"

 _Author's Note: I'm sorry for the wait but here's chapter 4 and I'm gonna end it with a bit of a cliffy! The Cult idea came from thinking "hey, Im sure to the average person a giant whole in the sky filled with monsters might have some religious significance and would probably start a cult or two. And Captain America and Clint and his family will be featured in chapters moving forward if you were wondering. Oh and I wanted to expand on Clint and Natasha's relationship, because two people who spend the time they have together would have an incredible bond that I don't feel is shown enough in the MCU. And for anyone wondering Peter's dream takes place in the Red Room like Natasha's did because that's the last place they were together(Or so they think)_


	5. Nobody Wins

Chapter Five: Nobody Wins

Peter felt as if he could feel the Earth rotating on it's axis and his ears were ringing. The man allowed him to get back to his feet, which would have been the perfect time to flee as Karen was begging him too. "Spider-Man doesn't run." He responded to her begging, preparing himself mentally for whatever the mercenary would throw at him. Batroc repeatedly flinched towards Peter, gauging his response and feeling out the young hero.

Peter eventually grew tired of it and shot a web which hit Batroc's wrist. "What the f-" Before the confused man could finish his statement Peter came forward with a front kick, sending the larger man flying backwards into a parked car. Glass shards covered Georges when he hit the ground and the alarm of the car blared behind him. Peter tried to take the fight to him again, jumping forward and leading with his a closed fist.  
Batroc slipped it and landed a punch of his own, again on the bridge of Peter's already broken nose. Peter saw stars and yelped, and when his hands came to his face on instinct Batroc threw a kick into Peter's exposed stomach.

Peter stumbled backwards, gripping his stomach and coughing, desperately trying to catch his breath. "Load the guns back up!" Batroc called to his team of men before returning his attention to Peter.

"Peter, please!" Karen again began pleading with him. "You're outmatched. You need to run!" Her usually calm collected voice sounded panicked. She was right, even if Peter didn't want to admit it. In terms of brute strength Peter couldn't be matched by any human but he'd never trained. And this man had, and his experience showed with his quick precise counter strikes. He'd thought he'd gone toe-to-toe with Captain America but he realized how easy Cap had gone on him. His shaky finally legs gave out and fell to the ground, taking a few deep breaths.

Their eyes locked as the older man paced back and forth, waiting for Peter to get back to his feet. Batroc's gaze sent a chill up his spine. He looked at Peter the way a cat looked at a mouse; prey. This man was a predator, through and through. "That all ya got?" Peter masked the pain and fear, though he still sniffled slightly. Peter knew if he engaged first Batroc would counter, and he lacked the skill to fight him like that. But if Batroc came after him first he could stand a chance by using his superior reflexes and strength.

"Big talk, for such a little spider." The man remarked coming forward with a quick combination of punches and kicks. Peter retreated blocking them before finally tying up one of Batroc's legs with a web. A distraction, but a good one, Peter used the split second to jump backwards and pull his feet out from under him. "Okay.." Batroc sounded angry as he pulled the knife from his boot.

Peter formulated silently, his eyes fixed on the six inches of cold steel the man was wielding. Far from the deadliest thing Peter'd been faced with, but in the hands of this man he was actually in danger of being cut. He wasn't taking a chance with it, so he shot a web towards the blade but unbeknownst to Peter that's what Batroc wanted. He released the knife and allowed the web to attach itself to it before lunging forward with with a right hook. The punch hit it's mark and staggered the teen.  
Peter's vision was tunneled and time seemed to slow as he fell to his back. Karen still pleaded with him but he couldn't quite make out the words. He tried to get back to his feet but the mercenary pounced on him, pulling him into a choke hold. _"He's gonna choke me to death!"_ Peter thought while struggling to escape the man's grasp. A sudden rush of adrenaline hit the battered teen as his survival instinct kicked in.

Peter's hand worked it's way to Batroc's face and he roughly pushed his nose up towards the sky before popping his head free. His hand wrapped around Batroc's neck without even realizing he'd done it and threw him off like a rag doll. They both stood and the angered mercenary threw another hook, which was caught easily by Peter. The two stared into each other's eyes, the white soulless eyes of the mask were fixed on him. And in his moment of distraction Peter punched him, hard, across the face skipping him across the asphalt like a rock on a lake.

Something deep inside of him told him to kill Georges Batroc, here and now. He could have, easily, and that voice in the back of his mind kept telling him to do it. "That's not me.." Peter snapped out of the momentary his will for survival had brought on, his eyes on the man as he began to come back to his senses. Peter extended his arm to web him up for the police but the alarm in his brain sounded again and Peter turned to be greeted by an RPG being aimed at him. Reacting quickly he back flipped out of the path of the rocket just as it was fired.

It exploded upon impact with a parked car, creating a fiery explosion that sent shrapnel in ever direction. "Let's go, sir!" The men desperately tried to drag Batroc to the van. Peter quickly jumped from his place on the ground to try and stop them but was met with automatic gunfire, which forced him to take cover behind a tree.

Peter cursed himself for allowing Batroc to do so much damage, and now he was pinned down while he made his escape. The van began to pull off, and Peter peaked around the tree and quickly shot a tracker onto the back of the van. The young hero let out a sigh, of both relief and slight disappointment. The young hero had never been bested in quite that fashion, and he'd also never thought about killing anyone before.

"You're lucky to be alive." Karen remarked, a small amount of disappointment and irritation in her tone.

"Tell me about." Peter rolled his eyes and pulled himself to his feet. He could hear sirens coming towards him, and he wasn't about to stick around and try to explain this mess.

* * *

What had started out as just eating lunch with Clint and her surrogate family had turned into a day with the children and it'd gone well into the evening. And after an hour of begging from the children she'd agreed to stay the night. Natasha smiled at the thought, but the night with the little family she had made her mind wander to thoughts of her son. The life she'd always wanted but had always been out of her grasp.

"You know there's this wonderful thing called sleep," Laura's sweet voice came, barely louder than the crackle of the flames from the fireplace. "You should try it." Natasha chuckled and shrugged her shoulders and made room on the couch for her.

"Yeah, but I might miss something if I fall asleep." They didn't speak for a long time, Laura's compassionate, loving gaze on her made her feel like a child. Or at least the way a child would probably have felt when their Mother stared at them. Maybe the way hers would have felt. "Clint told you, didn't he?" Natasha asked, already knowing her friend had told his wife.

"Sorry." Laura shrugged her shoulders.

"I figured he was going too. Though, I kinda wanted to tell you myself." Natasha looked towards Laura, and she couldn't help but smile. The woman had welcomed her into her life with open arms, and been someone the spy could lean on every step of the way. Being there for her in all the ways that Clint could never be. Laura placed a hand on Natasha's back and circled it gently, which was both calming and comforting.

"I'm proud of you, Nat." Natasha turned to look at her, a confused look on her face.

"For what? I faked my own death and abandoned my child." The guilt she felt came out. "You'd die before abandoning yours." Laura sighed and scooted herself closer to her friend.

"I can't say that I wouldn't have done the same thing had I been in your position." Laura didn't know much about Natasha's time in the Red Room. They'd had one wine drunk conversation about it that ended with the spy throwing the empty bottle on the kitchen floor to conceal her pain with anger. It was easier for her than admitting she felt like she was broken.  
But she knew they trained her, and they'd used her as an instrument of espionage and a dealer of death. "I'm willing to bet they used your son as leverage." Natasha's silence and her averted gaze told her she was right. "And I'm sure if you'd tried to one it would have gotten you and your baby killed." The natural motherly instincts that Laura had always had caused her to grimace at what Natasha had been through. "You made the call you felt was in both of your best interest." Natasha wasn't the most emotional of individuals but it made her cold heart skip listening to Laura speak so highly of her.

"If I find him," Natasha swallowed the lump in her throat. "I hope I can be half the Mom that you are." A smile played across the older woman's face.

"You're going to be a great Mom." Laura wrapped her arms around Natasha's shoulders. "I know it."

* * *

Peter made it back to his apartment and collapsed to the floor upon entering, trying to breathe. The adrenaline from the fight had warn off and the pain from his injuries was immense. He removed his mask and limped into his tiny bathroom, allowing the sink to support his weight.

His face was mess of both dry and fresh sticky blood, and deep blue bruises stretched across his face. There was a nice black eye to boot with his broken nose. Something he had to reset.  
Peter gripped the bridge of his nose took a few quick breaths before quickly snapping it back straight, with an audible _Pop!_ "Ow. Ow." Peter exhaled a quivering breath, tears of pain dripping onto his cheeks as blood flowed from his nose and onto the porcelain sink.

"Peter!?" Tony Stark's frantic voice called from the front door. Fumbling with a set of keys Aunt May had surely given him. Peter grabbed a towel and met his billionaire mentor in the living room. "Hey buddy." Stark couldn't think of anything else to say, his eyes looking over the extensive injuries he'd suffered. "Jesus, what did he do to you?" A sudden rush of anger hit him upon seeing Peter's bloodied face, but the feeling was over taken by worry. Tony was responsible for Peter, whether the teen liked it or not.

"What're you doing here, Mr. Stark?" He questioned, turning and heading back towards his room, trying to play off the pain he was in. "I thought you were in Baltimore with Aunt May?" Tony followed Peter to the bedroom, which was lit by the boy's desk lamp.

Tony knelt down in front of Peter when he sat on his bed. "I was," He paused pulling the rag from Peter's grip to get a better look at him. "I got a distress signal from your suit's AI. She also said you'd gotten yourself into some deep shit with Georges Batroc and refused to run." He explained, a gentle hand tilting Peter's head back. "Admirable. But stupid, kid." Tony liked Peter's persistence but there was certainly a line. The line was trained killers.

 _Damn it._ Peter thought silently. "Karen." Peter corrected, though her calling Mr. Stark was a tad irritating he didn't like her being referred too as his "suit's AI."

"Right." Tony laughed, still finding it adorable that Peter named his AI. "So, how exactly did you run into Georges Batroc?" he asked the obvious question, wiping away some of the blood that was still dripping from Peter's nose.

"Just lucky, I guess." Peter recoiled from the rag when it brushed against his bruised cheek harder than he would have liked. Tony sighed and tossed the rag on the bed, before moving to the chair at the desk. "He's good." Peter winced, a sudden rush of pain hitting him briefly. "It was like he knew everything I was going to do before I even did it." Peter reflected on the fight. On how outmatched he'd been, with all his strength and heightened reflexes he was still no match for Batroc.  
Tony watched him, with both curiosity and nervousness. Peter was a stubborn kid, and would want a rematch given the chance.

Tony wasn't about to let Peter tangle with Batroc again. "You need to take a shower." Tony pulled his phone from his pocket and began dialing a number.

"I don't want too." Peter shrugged his response. Earning him a glare from his mentor.

"I wasn't asking." Tony used his most stern voice. "Get your ass in the shower." Peter didn't argue, but allowed his discontent be known with his sigh.  
Tony waited till he heard the bathroom door click shut and for the shower to start to finish dialing.

"Hello?" Natasha answered, a slight confusion in her voice.

"Morning Romanoff." He responded shortly, holding the phone with his shoulder and trying find her location with the smart watch he wore. "I see the Quinjet on stealth mode, where ya at?" He began to probe. It was obvious that he still didn't trust him.

Natasha sat up from the spot she'd dozed off in and tried to think of the lie she'd had planned for this situation. "I'm on a mission." The spy cursed herself mentally for not turning off her stupid phone. Though that REALLY would have pissed off the older control freak.

"A mission huh?" Tony tried not to laugh. Ross told him every time he deployed the Black Widow, something Tony had convinced him to do. Though it didn't take much convincing, Thaddeus Ross didn't trust Natasha as far as he could throw her. Natasha only made a small noise as her response. "That's just odd, because I know Secretary Ross hasn't deployed you, and you're still injured so I know you're not out on any standard military ops." Tony was smart. And more cunning than anyone in the group gave him credit for.  
When Natasha stayed silent, choosing not to argue since he could simply turn off the Quinjet's stealth feature if he really wanted too. Something he'd implemented both after losing Bruce and more so because she'd rejoined the team. "You're at Barton's, aren't you?" He asked, rhetorically. Again her silence confirmed it. "Excellent, because I need your help." Natasha rubbed her temple at that. She hadn't heard from the man she had once considered her closest friends in nearly 3 weeks. It was a tad hurtful but also very insulting.

"What do you need?" She asked, bitterly.

"Spider-Man had a run in with Georges Batroc." That grabbed her attention. Batroc was a handful for anybody, let alone a kid. Even one with super human strength.

"Jesus, is he still alive?" She questioned, honestly concerned. The kid had seemed pleasant and well meaning in Berlin and was pretty well known as a local hero in New York.

"Yeah," Tony rubbed his forehead. The kid was gonna give him a god damn heart attack. "Yeah he's alive." Tony was thankful for that. "I need your help catching this guy before Peter wants a rematch or he hurts someone else." _Shit!_ Tony mentally cursed himself for letting the kid's name slip.

"I'm dealing with my own stuff right now." Natasha protested lightly, choosing too ignore the name slip. The identity of New York's beloved Spider-Man held no interest to her. At least not yet.

"That's too bad." Tony began to pull his authority over her.

Natasha held back a barrage of insults. "This is not my fucking problem, Stark!" The frustrated spy tried not yell, knowing it'd wake the house full of sleeping people. The 3 tiny people being her biggest concern.

"Well I'm making it your problem, _ROMANOFF!_ " Tony was sure to enunciate her name. "Now you and Cap can meet me at the Compound tonight or I can have a squad of JSOC guys up there to drag your ass in, with Rogers and the rest of them." There was silence on the other end of the phone, Natasha punching her pillow repeatedly in frustration. Tony knew they were all there. He had leverage on her.

"Okay," She took in a deep breath of air. "But I need something." Tony stopped in his tracks, as he had begun digging through Peter's fridge. Which was practically empty, except for a half empty carton of eggs and a jug of spoiled milk.

"I didn't realize this was negotiation." Tony questioned her, still high on his power trip.

"It's not." Natasha sighed, running a hand through her curly red hair. "But I need a favor, and you're the only person who can help me." Her years of espionage had taught her that arguing with someone was rarely effective. And even rarer with a narcissist like Tony Stark. She could have resorted to flattery or simply stolen the card. But in truth she was tired of all the lying.

"And why should I help you?" He asked, though it sounded colder when it came out than he had intended.

Natasha winced internally. That one hurt. "Because you're my friend." She spoke from her heart, something she had never done with Tony. "Because you're supposed to care about me. Because," She let all her frustration and hurt out in her plea. It even surprised her how painful it was when she was forced to actually face the cracks in their once solid friendship. "Because I need to look through SHIELD's records for something from my past and you're the only person who can help me. And you'll understand when I've found it." She finished her plea, hoping it got through his thick skull. Hoping that he still cared enough about her to help her with this one thing.

Tony was taken back by her genuine plea for his help. And the sudden realization that he'd taken out his hurt and aggression towards Steve on Natasha under the guise of being hurt by her betrayal hit him like a train. "Fine," Whatever she needed was obviously important to her and he owed it to her after the last few months. "But it better be cool."

* * *

A rush of panic hit Justin when he heard his associate had engaged Spider-Man. And even after the man that'd witnessed the skirmish had ensured him that Spider-Man had gotten the worst of it he was still worried. Justin didn't know much about the famous Spider-Man, aside from a few YouTube videos and still frame photos of him going toe-to-toe with Captain America. He was however, sure that he had a direct line to tony Stark and the rest of the Avengers. Killing them would be complicated if they got wind of the plan.  
The man pulled into the parking lot of his automated factory and hung his SUV up on the curb before rushing inside. He was greeted by Georges sitting shirtless on a fold out chair, his back to him.

"I can't beat them." There was a hint of defeat in his voice. "3 black belts, 20 years of training, and I'm still not a match for them." He finally turned towards Justin. His left eye was nearly swollen shut from the fractured cheek bone he'd received from Spider-Man.

He grimaced just looking at the injury. "I heard you gave Spider-Man all he could handle and then some." Justin tried to console Georges, though he wasn't sure why.

Georges scoffed. "He's no man, he's a boy in a costume." The little spider packed a punch but he was a kid, who had no training. And still he wasn't able to kill him. "There's no amount of training that close the gap between them and me." He spoke of all the enhanced people that now populated the world with a hint of awe in his voice. "The world has evolved past people like me." Since Georges had taken up training in his early teens the only thing that truly interested him was testing his skills against the very best. He'd lost countless fights, but every time he lost he went back to work on fine tuning his style. But things had changed, no amount of training could close the gap between him and the Steve Rogers' of the world.

"Actually," Justin began to mentally formulate a way to better their odds in killing the Avengers. "There might be a way to close that gap." That gained Georges' attention. "A military Super Soldier program was being developed by a company I acquired before the American invasion of Afghanistan." The weapon mogul recalled the serum that'd been developed but never tested. "I told them to shelve it." The soldier in Batroc surfaced when he heard that.

"You shelved a super soldier program?" He questioned, standing from his chair onto his slightly uneasy legs. "Why would you have done such a thing?" As far as Georges was concerned, aside from the Atomic Bomb, Captain America and the Winter Soldier were the biggest advancements in man kind's many years of warfare.

Justin shrugged his slim shoulders. "There's no money in it." He spoke from his business standpoint. "It cost them 15 milion dollars to produce one dose, which was ultimately what put them into bankruptcy and allowed me to buy them out. And the Military was and still is more interested in weapons. And there's always side effects." Georges sighed and took 2 long steps forward till he was nose to nose with Justin.

"I am not interested in the side effects." He practically growled.

"Okay," Justin panicked slightly. "Okay, I need you to realize that we never tested it. It MIGHT not even work, or there could be side effects-" Batroc reached out and grabbed him by his blue pinstriped tie. A threat even without even speaking a word. Justin might have said it was impressive, if it weren't so terrifying. "Okay, okay, okay. You're not interested in side effects! I get it!" Justin raised his hands in a 'I surrender' sort of gesture.

"Get me that fucking serum. Now." He spoke a low and commanding tone and Justin nodded nodded his response quickly, as Batroc tucked the tie back into his suit, and pulled Justin's cell phone from his pocket. Something the business man didn't protest.

"It's being stored at one of my facilities in Kansas, but Ill have it delivered." Justin breathed a sigh of relief and combed his hair back into place. "You should get that checked out." That got a laugh from Georges as he returned to his seat.

"I have faith in your serum, Mr. Hammer." He shrugged off the suggestion.  
The two men parted ways for the evening, while Justin had his untested serum flown in from the American Midwest. He didn't sleep that night, choosing to sit at his private hanger as the night drug by and the sun rose in the sky above JFK airport where he'd pick up the serum. Justin was afraid it wouldn't work, and he was even more afraid it would. He knew what had happened to Emil Blonsky in New York nearly a decade earlier.

"It'll be different." He assured himself as the cargo plane was taxied into the hanger. The exchange was quick, the guards on board the plane weren't burdened with knowing it's contents. 12 vials for each major muscle group. And one to be injected directly into the spinal cord, to enhance brain function. All of which was locked in a metal combination locked case.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Justin asked one final time as Georges undressed and picked up one of the needles. "Once I start I can't stop. And the effects will be irreversible." Justin wasn't a doctor but he had heard horror stories over the years about failed super soldier programs.

"You're worried about me?" Georges turned towards his new ally.

"And about myself."He admitted with a slight chuckle. "No offense, but you aren't the most patient of people and you have a temper." Justin averted his gaze to the ceiling. It was an uncomfortable thing having Georges strolling around naked, especially since it didn't seem to bother him. "You didn't need to take your underwear off." Georges laughed and sat down.

"Let us begin." Batroc was done waiting, and he lacked the anxiety that plagued Justin. His training had taught him to jump without looking and it'd kept him alive so far.

Justin took a deep breath and picked up the first needle. "This is going to hurt." He plunged the needle into the back of Georges's arm. The bright blue liquid hit his blood stream and the pain was immediate. Like his blood being replaced with acid. With every shot the pain increased, his muscles and joints screamed and so did he. "Dear God.." Justin watched as the bruising around Batroc's eye faded and the swelling went down. The serum worked! His body was healing it's self before his eyes.

"What are you waiting for!?" Batroc demanded knowing the last shot into his spine would be the most painful, but knowing it was the most necessary. Justin nodded and grabbed the last syringe, and quickly, but carefully slid the needle in between the vertebrae in his lower back.  
For a split second everything went numb, but the pain quickly came back like a wave.

"Okay! That's it!" Justin removed the needle and Batroc leaped from his seat and onto the cold smooth concrete floor. His naked body drenched in sweat, and convulsing and trembling.

"This," Batroc pushed himself onto his hands and knees. "This is incredible." A smile spread across his lips as he seemed to experience everything for the first time. Everything around him was clearer. His vision which had diminished as he'd age was returned. But it wasn't just his sight, it was everything; his hearing and his sense of smell had improved beyond anything he had ever felt. He wanted to test it, he HAD to test all of it. With one quick movement leaned on to his hands propelled himself off the floor and landed on his feet.

"You're bigger." Justin pointed out the noticeable increase in his already exception muscle mass. "Think it'll be enough for you to defeat Rogers, one on one?" Justin asked, knowing that was and always had been Batroc's goal.

The man smiled thinking of it. "There's only one way to find out."

 _Author's note: So I here's chapter 5! I'm sure at least a few of you are wondering how Georges Batroc beat spider-man. I've trained myself and I can tell you I know what happens when someone with no training fights someone who does. And when everything else is even, the bigger stronger person wins, but everything wouldn't be even here. And with the serum I wanted to close the gap between Cap and Batroc. And I just wanted to thank all of you for supporting this story, it means more than you all probably realize. Please read and review! I read them all and they are very much appreciated._


	6. Two Spiders

Chapter Six: Two Spiders

Clint, Steve, and Natasha met Tony at the Avenger's Tower under the cover of darkness. There was a feeling of uneasiness between Clint and Steve, neither of their previous encounters with Tony had been pleasant. Between Tony trying to kill Bucky and having Clint thrown in prison, however briefly

They sat waited in the common area waiting for Tony in an awkward silence. Nobody wanted to say it but there was a feeling of sadness in the air; they'd all talked, laughed and cried in this room at one point or another. It was where the little broken family had been born and they all missed it.

The elevator opened with a _Ding!_ Signaling Tony's arrival and Steve subconsciously prepared to defend himself, his back foot sliding out and widening his stance when he stood from the sofa. Their eyes locked, briefly, when the elevator doors opened. "Tony." Steve nodded with a slight smile.

Tony ignored the friendly gesture, his eyes venturing to the other two. Clint's arms were folded across his chest, and there was a look of anger on his face. He expected the same from Natasha, who he'd been at odds with since her return to the Avenger's. But to his dismay she smiled at him slightly, and there was look of hopefulness in her green eyes. "I'm sure Natasha filled you guys in on the details of why I needed you." Tony spoke as he made his way to the kitchen and opened a bottle of scotch.

"Any word on how Batroc was able to escape from prison?" Steve asked. "I mean the guys good but he didn't do that on his own, certainly not without setting off any alarms." Cap was certainly known for his physical abilities but he was smart as well.

Tony quickly pulled up all the information Thaddeus had given him, though none of it told them anything of use. "We're still working on that but who ever it was is good. They scrambled the prison's cameras." Tony used the holographic projector on his phone to pull up a few pictures of Batroc. Before the footage of Spider-Man's confrontation with Batroc.

Steve winced when the first elbow connected with the teen's face, the yelp of pain hard for even the soldier to bare. "The kid from Leipzig." Steve stated, remembering their fight. Though it was little more than a sparring match for the significantly better train soldier. "He got a bit in over his head with this one." Steve let out a slight sigh, watching his friend grimace while they watched the video of the one sided fight.

Tony looked away from the video, finding it too much to watch. "Yeah," Tony turned the video off. "Little idiot's lucky to be alive." There was the slightest bit of frustration Tony's voice as he rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. "I need Batroc found before he kills somebody, or before Spider-Man is healed enough for a rematch." Steve watched Tony intently as he spoke. This kid meant a great deal to him.

"The kid's got heart." Steve smiled at Tony, who again looked away.

"I have Friday sweeping camera using facial recognition to try to find him." Tony got back to the point of why they were here.

"That's a good idea but I doubt it'll catch him. Batroc isn't dumb enough to be out in public." Natasha recalled her and Cap's mission when they went after him. Batroc wasn't a dumb brute he had brains that backed up his brawn; he wouldn't be caught by security cameras.

"What do you guys suggest, then?" Clint finally chimed in. "You and Cap went after this guy, so how'd you catch him?" Natasha and Steve's eyes met at that.

"We didn't." Steve folded his arms and leaned against the counter. "Batroc was only caught because he was hired by Fury." Tony lightly, but audibly, slapped his hand against the counter. The idea of Batroc slipping through their fingers was both terrifying and frustrating. "He could be in the wind tomorrow." That wasn't a reassuring thought to any of them. The mercenary was one of the most dangerous men on the planet and if they let him escape they'd be responsible for who ever he hurt.

"I don't think that's gonna happen." Tony stated, gaining a confused look from everyone. "I mean think about it," Tony stood up right. "If he wanted to vanish he would have. But he didn't he came here, and then picked a fight with Spider-Man. That doesn't exactly sound like he's trying to lay low, does it?" They all thought about and it was true, he wasn't in New York because of coincidence. "We need to figure out what he's after." Tony stated the obvious.

"I think he's after us." Steve remembered his encounter with him on the Lemurian Star. He was a hired gun yes, but he wasn't after money. He knew they'd send Rogers and he wanted to test himself against Captain America. "He's not your standard merc, he lives for the thrill of combat and he isn't motivated by money." Natasha found herself wishing they'd killed Batroc back then.

"It doesn't matter what he's after." Natasha said, gaining a look of bewilderment from Steve. "We just need to find him and kill him." She had a more important goal on her mind, Batroc was little more than a side show to her.

"Well," Tony chuckled slightly, not expecting the outburst from Romanoff. "We aren't going to find him tonight. Why don't you guys try to get some sleep." Tony ended the conversation and headed towards the elevator, followed quickly by Natasha.

The soldier watched the spy, curiously. "What's gotten into her?" Steve questioned as he watched her enter the elevator with Tony.

"It's," Clint stopped himself before spilling Natasha's secret, realizing that tell Cap about her son was different than telling Laura. "You'll see." Cap was both curious and anxious about Barton's secretive demeanor.

The inside of the elevator was dead quiet for the first 20 floors down before Tony spoke. "How're you supposed to conspire against me while in here with me?" He joked, gaining him a glare.

"I need to get clearance for the Damage Control Facility." Natasha tried not to order, but she wanted to find her son sooner rather than later.

"What's your angle, Romanoff?" Tony's curiosity got the better of him. "You gotta give me something here, Nat." He laughed when she squeezed her eyes shut in frustration.

"Tony, I-" She searched for the words to say to him, wanting desperately to tell him. "I can't tell you what it is. Not until I've found it." This brought a frown to Tony's face. He wanted to know just as much as Natasha wanted to tell him. But with every person that she told she felt more out of control of her little world. A control she couldn't stand to lose. "I'm sorry, Tony. I just need you to trust me when I say it's important." Natasha intertwined her own hands and looked at her boots.

"Here," Tony didn't want to push the obviously sensitive issue any further. "This'll get you access to all the archives." The elevator reached the bottom floor of the empty building, where Happy was waiting for Tony. Happy waved at her warmly as she gratefully accepted the ID badge. "Good luck." Tony gave her a pat on the back before leaving the tower's lobby and entering the car.  
The woman breathed a sigh of relief and clutched the card, a smile gracing her features momentarily.

* * *

Peter had always prided himself on being an optimist and seeing the best in every situation. But he'd read through 77 journals and no where had it even mentioned him being adopted; let alone who he belonged too. "She's in here," He tried to assure himself that he'd find her. That somewhere in these thousands of entries that he'd written it down. "She has to be." There was a sinking feeling in Peter's stomach that in an effort to keep it from him Richard had never written it down. Or if he had that the journal containing it had been destroyed. It was entirely possible that Richard and Mary Parker had taken that information to their graves.

The front door of the apartment unlocked and he could hear foot steps approaching his bed room. It was Tony and Happy, he could tell by their heavy footsteps and bantering back and forth. He could have listened in on the conversation if he focused but that would require energy that Peter sorely lacked.

"Hey, Pete." Happy greeted, readjusting the box in his hands, Peter simply nodded in acknowledgement. Happy chose not to bring up the boy's fight with Batroc. He was sure Tony was going to rip the fledgling hero a new one for being so foolish, if he hadn't already.

The teen's eyes made their way to the box. "What do you have there?" Peter questioned.

"It's the VCR and cassette player you needed." Tony responded as he lifted one of the journals off Peter's bed. Remembering reading his own Father's journals a few years earlier.

"I can't believe you really found them!" Peter scrambled to his feet and removed the box from Happy's hands.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Yes, I can build super suits and create artificial intelligence, but finding a VCR was the REAL challenge." Tony teased the teenager, who was busy opening the boxes containing two items he desperately needed if he wanted to finish looking through his adopted Father's work. He watched as Peter scrambled to open the cassette player and slap in a tape. The teen was desperate "Peter?" Tony finally called.

"Yeah?" His eyes came up, and he finally noticed the look of concern in Tony's eyes. Peter had seen the look a few times, before. In Germany, right after his Aunt was diagnosed and he discovered he was adopted, and after he'd had his fight with Batroc. But this look was different, some how. More sad, and less concerned. "What is it?" Peter questioned.

"Peter, I know you want to find your Mom, but I can't watch you lose yourself in this." Tony gestured to the stack of journals. "I mean what if you don't find her in all those journals?" Peter held back a gasp. Hearing someone else vocalize his own fear was a blow to his already shaken confidence.

"I-I," Peter stumbled over his words looking for a way to defend himself. "I can't afford for her NOT to be in here!" Peter finally admitted it aloud, a lump jumping into his throat. "I can't be all alone." Peter quickly wiped the tear the worked it's way onto his cheek away with the back of his hand.

Tony and Happy were both shocked, and it even shocked Peter himself. Tony understood the fear of being alone. He remembered feeling it after his parent's death, and he knew Peter had felt it before with his adopted parent's death. "Peter," Tony sighed, a sadness in his voice. "You're not alone." His young protege looked down at the cassette player in his hands. "You have May and me." Tony usually wasn't any good with his emotions and had tried to bury himself in his work to avoid dealing with them. Something that eventually cost him the relationship he had with Pepper.

"You got me too, kid." Happy chimed in, quickly. Though Happy had gone out of his way to make Peter think he didn't like him at first, it was far from the truth. The man enjoyed Peter's curiosity, playfulness and his good nature. Not to say Peter didn't drive him crazy at the same time.

Tony finally made his way to Peter, sitting next to him and allowing their shoulders to touch, he took the old cassette player from his grip. Hoping to get Peter's undivided attention. "I need to know that YOU know that whether or not you find her, you have a family and that you are not alone." Tony spoke in the softest tone possible. It brought a small smile to Happy's face watching Tony with Peter, even if this wasn't the best of circumstances. Tony needed Peter every bit as much as Peter needed Tony.

Peter took in a big deep breath of air, trying not cry in front of them. The teen's life had been ripped apart and he wasn't sure how to pick up the pieces. "Yeah," Peter nodded his head. "Yeah, I know I do." Tony patted him on the back again, finally getting Peter to look at him.

"You're flying out to Baltimore this week to visit May." Peter wasn't sure if you was telling him or ordering him but he didn't care. "I think you could both use a little home right now."

* * *

The Damage Control Facility where all SHIELD's records were kept was a new and advanced facility. The floors and walls were made of marble, Natasha figured the Government had spent close to a billion dollars building it. Which made the fact that none of the files she needed had transferred to digital files even more frustrating to her. _"Operation Red Vengeance."_ Natasha laughed slightly when she read the name. She grunted with effort as she pulled it off the shelf and dropped it to the floor, before quickly yanking the lid off the green box.  
She jumped slightly at a black widow that had made the interior of the box it's home. She smiled slightly, the irony wasn't lost on her. So she quickly used one off the files to remove the spider from the box and set it on the marble floor and let it scurry away.

She began reading the mission briefing, something she'd done countless times.

 _Operation Red Vengeance. February 16, 2004.  
Mission Commander: Director Fury, Nicholas J.  
Field Officer: Agent Barton, Clinton F.  
Location: Magadan, Russia. _

Natasha's mind momentarily wondered back to the Red Room, where she had been trained... Where she had been raised. The facility was located in the mountains outside the city. Hidden from the public eye and the prying eyes of spy planes searching for it. The United States had searched for the Red Room for nearly 60 years. And they'd have spent 60 more searching for it with the same results had it not been for Natasha defecting. _"I hope they know it was me that sealed their fate."_ The thought came into her mind, and a vengeful grin played across her lips.

Natasha managed to snap out of her momentary trance and return to the file. She skimmed past most of the information she knew wouldn't benefit her. She scanned page after page, most of which was just field reports from the Delta unit's members. Finally she found what she was looking for.

 _"Final report: Mission successful. All members of the Red Room Training program eliminated. It appears the facility had suffered from the fall of Soviet Union; only 3 girls were currently being trained. All 3 committed suicide by ingesting cyanide pills before being reached. No intelligence gathered; it appears that they incinerated everything when we breached the compound. I recovered a young boy, approximately 3 years of age-"_ The air left Natasha's lungs. _"Given he was being held separately from the rest of the trainees and the intelligence provided by Agent Romanoff stating they do not train boys or men I find it likely he was orphaned by our assault on the compound. The child was released into custody of SHIELD scientists, Dr. Richard Parker and Dr. Mary Parker."_ Natasha jammed the file back into the box and set it back in it's place on the shelf before starting her search for the information on those two scientists.

Natasha went alphabetically, searching row after of box's labeled with the letters until she got to P. Her hands were clammy and shaking as she pulled the box from the shelf. The usually calm and collected spy was practically frantic as she dug through the folders searching for the people raising her son. She found her mind wandering to thought of who the family was; something that had never really occurred to her till now is that whoever these people were they were parents to him. She finally reached the file labeled "Parker." But her hand hesitated. It'd been so long, and he'd been so young when she left that he almost certainly had no memories of her. Richard and Mary Parker were the only parents he'd ever known. She could be about to turn his life upside down, and it'd never even really crossed her mind.

Natasha finally managed to pick up the file, her hand still shaking as she opened it. For the first time since she'd decided to search for him her resolve was being tested. _"What if what's best for me, isn't what's best for him?"_ She questioned herself.  
The spy's internal struggle was interrupted when her eyes were dragged down to the bright red letters that spelled out _'Deceased.'_ on the bottom Mary Parker's file. She quickly flipped through the pages till she got to the file that belonged to Richard. Her heart sank when it read the same.

"No," Her voice broke slightly. He couldn't be... Panic took control of her, and she didn't fight it. She couldn't. "No, no, no!" She began searching frantically for anything about the boy they'd adopted. She finally found an adoption form filled out by the two apparently deceased scientist. "Peter Benjamin Parker." She read the name aloud, a smile appearing on her lips, ever so briefly. The smile quickly faded until she found two death certificates, dated July 14, 2007.

A sigh of relief came from her without her evening realizing it, and her pounding heart slowed. Though her relief was short lived, being replaced with a tinge of guilt that she wasn't there when he certainly needed her. And more than that was a feeling of sadness. He was a child of 6 when he lost the only parents he'd ever known. It made her stomach twist just thinking of the loneliness he must have felt. "I should have been there for you." Natasha tried to shake off the feeling of guilt and regret that was seizing her chest, knowing they weren't useful to her but they persisted.

The former assassin continued to search, reading page after page. Most of which were different experiments the two scientists had worked on both together and apart. She wasn't a scientist but she couldn't help but marvel at the accomplishments of the two physicists. "A will!" She whispered to herself in excitement. A will would tell her who had him, and where she could find him.

 _"In the event of Richard and Mary Parker's death, custody of Peter B. Parker will be given to Benjamin Parker and May R. Parker."_ She read the will aloud and she knew she was drawing ever closer to Peter. The name was still foreign on her tongue, but just saying it brought a smile to her face.

Her slim hands were practically trembling as she punched the names into the data base her phone had access too, courtesy of Tony Stark and Secretary Ross. The data base was expansive and accurate and contained information on all of the United States 323 million residence.  
But, nothing came up for Peter, or at least not the one she was searching for. Not even a high school. _"Strange."_ Natasha brushed it off as a glitch or possibly his information hadn't been entered correctly and moved on to May Parker.

 _"Home address blocked."_ Natasha tilted her head confused. She'd used this data base every time she did an operation with American law enforcement and not once had anything been kept from her. The frustrated spy searched for clarification as to why she was barred from the information she was searching for. _"Information has been sealed. Agent Romanoff, Natasha A. lacks proper clearance."_ Natasha clicked her tongue against her teeth, slightly frustrated and confused.  
Peter's information was missing and his Aunt's was classified. It wasn't a coincidence, it couldn't be.

"There has to be something here." The spy's patience was being tested, but her resolve was only strengthened by being so close. Finally searched the data base for what felt like an eternity till she found something, though it wasn't something she wanted to see; a hospital admission for May Parker, just 2 weeks prior.

* * *

Peter held the last cassette tape in his hand and studied it; it had a date written in marker on the front. _"7-1-2007."_ This was it, if they didn't say who it was here then it was the end of the road. The anxious teen wet his lips and put the tape into the player and started it.

It was different from every other tape he'd listened too or watched, Richard didn't jump right into whatever he was documenting. Peter could here papers being shuffled and the man who'd hear raise him swearing under his breath. _"Um,"_ Peter barely recognized the voice on the cassette. It was nothing like he remembered but he could still sense the uneasiness. _"I, in my infinite stupidity decided to try to see if Peter's biological Parents were still alive. Purely out of curiosity and, fuck. She-"_ Again Richard paused. _"She is possibly the most dangerous person on the planet and I have her baby."_ The most dangerous woman on the planet? Peter was confused, and Richard seemed to be deliberately avoiding saying her name.

"Don't do this." Peter shook his head and tears began to work their way to his eyes as the tape player fell silent.

 _"Mary and I are divided on this,"_ Peter breathed a sigh of relief. _"She says it's his and her right to know the other, and we don't get to deprive them of the relationship between a Mother and Son."_ A smile pulled at the corners of Peter's mouth. _"And I fell in love with her for her compassion, but Mary doesn't seem to understand what this woman might do to us if she finds out we have him. Peter can never know she exists, and she can never know we have him."_ The tape fell silent again, for close to 10 minutes Peter sat and waited for the voice to return.

Peter shook his head slowly and closed his eyes as tight as he could, trying desperately to ward off the tears. He used his thumb to fast forward a few minutes at a time. "SON OF A BITCH!" Peter swore, something he rarely did, and tossed the player across the floor. The defeated boy sat in the silent, empty room and sobbed. He tried to remind himself that he had Mr. Stark, Happy and May and that they cared. But it did nothing to console him; he'd never get to meet the only real family he had left and all the friends in the world wouldn't change that.

 _"Hey Pete!"_ The sweet voice of Mary came from the cassette player and he froze. _"If you're listening to this, then your Dad and I are most likely gone, and you're searching for your real parent's."_ Peter winced little bit at that. She may not have given birth to him, but she'd been the only Mom he'd known and he still missed her. Even now. _"We've been butting head's about this for weeks but I think it's your right to know the truth."_ Mary paused, clearing her throat. _"Your biological Mother's name is Natasha Romanoff, better known as the Black Widow."_ It took a minute for Peter to register the words and even when he had he was in disbelief. _"I-"_ Mary fell silent, probably feeling some fort of guilt for divulging Peter's Mom's identity behind her husband's back. _"I'm sure this all very confusing and hard to swallow, but I love you, Peter. And Ill always be with you."_ The sweet voice seemed to be assuring him, like she knew what he was going to be feeling when he finally found this tape.

There was a _'Click'_ from the cassette player as it ended and fell silent, leaving the confused boy in silence again. Natasha Romanoff? The world's best spy was his Mother? Certainly she of all people could have found him if she'd tried.

Peter wasn't sure what he felt at that moment, it wasn't the sadness or the loneliness from before. It was like he'd gone from feeling everything, to nothing at all. He was lost in a haze that he didn't know how to get out of. Before Peter even realized he was doing it, his phone was out and dialing Mr. Stark. "Peter?" His mentor answered in a frantic voice. "Is everything okay?" It was the first time in weeks Peter had called him, something had to be wrong.

Peter's thoughts were still scrambled and even if he had the emotional energy to explain it too him, where would he start? Mr. Stark and Natasha Romanoff hated eachother. "I'd like to see Aunt May, please." Peter spoke in a quiet, monotone voice.

Tony was slightly confused by both the request and the way Peter was speaking. "Sure thing." Tony agreed, listening for any sign of distress in the boy's voice. "Everything okay, kiddo?" The only response Tony got was a short _'Uh huh"_ before ending the phone call rather abruptly.

The road to her was clear for the first time, but the fear that she didn't want him was overwhelming.

* * *

The smell of disinfectant was strong and it flooded Natasha's nose when she entered the busy hospital. It hadn't taken her long to find where May Parker had been moved after leaving Metro-General hospital in Queens. And all it took was batting her eyes at the kid at the front desk to find May's room.  
The expert assassin wasn't accustom to being nervous and it made moving through the sea of doctors, nurses and patients that flooded the halls all the more uncomfortable. "I should have just waited and slipped in after visiting hours..." She grumbled quietly. Though breaking into a hospital probably isn't a great first impression when meeting the person who's been raising your baby.

Natasha drew closer to the room the sounds of the bustling hospital faded away till all she could hear was the sound of her heart pounding in her chest and her boots on the vinyl floors. Her heart pounded against her chest harder, and harder until Natasha finally reached the room, her eyes quickly finding the woman quietly reading a book in her hospital bed.

May's eyes came away from her book and she looked rather confused by Natasha's stare. "Mrs. Parker?" Natasha broke the awkward silence with a question she already knew the answer too. "I'm Nat-" The woman interrupted her with a chuckle as she removed her glasses.

She smiled warmly at the young woman in the door way, taking notice of how anxious she looked. Natasha's posture was rigid, and her hands fidgeted nervously. "I know who you are." May's voice was calm and sweet and it helped ease Natasha's anxiety, if only slightly. "Come in and have a seat." May gestured for the younger woman to come into the room.

Natasha took the seat next to May, who looked exhausted, most likely from the chemotherapy being used to kill the cancer in her body. "Mrs. Parker, I'm here because-" She paused, her eyes finding the warm and curious smile hard too ignore. Even after all these years away from the Red Room and their cruelty, and people's kindness and compassion felt foreign. "I'm Peter's Mom.." The words came out and the smile disappeared from May's face and her brown eyes widened in shock.

"You...?" May was in a state of disbelief. Natasha Romanoff, the world famous Avenger, was the Mother of the boy she'd raised? "You're Peter's Mom?" With a quiet laugh, Natasha nodded her head. A feeling of sadness and anger popped into her head while thinking of the boy alone and searching for the woman in front of her. "Does he know? How long have YOU known?" May asked the obvious questions, her heart hurting

A pained sigh escaped Natasha's lips, she could hear a touch of anger in May's tired voice. "No, I mean only found out his name a few hours ago." The anger faded while watching the pained look on Natasha's face. "And that's why I'm here, I need to know where I can find him." May gave her a confused stare, as if it should have been easy for her to find him.

When Natasha didn't continue, only looking like a helpless kid it caused May to break into a small laugh. "You really don't know who he is, do you?" Again, Natasha was silent, furrowing her brow in confusion at May's question. "I guess Peter and Stark really did take the secret identity thing seriously." Okay, now Natasha was really confused. Stark? Secret identity?

"Secret identity?" Natasha repeated back to May, with a confused laugh. "What do you mean? Why would Peter have a secret ident-" The light went off and her brain slowly pieced it together.  
 _"Peter."_ The name Tony'd let slip. The fledgling hero from Leipzig, that had gone toe-to-toe with Bucky and Sam, and even Cap himself. Natasha tried to wrap her head around it. "No.." She shook her head slightly. She thought of the boy's scrape with Batroc, who hadn't held back like Cap and Bucky had.

May sighed, knowing all too well what Natasha was feeling. "Yes." She assured her.

"He can't be." He'd been next to her not even 6 months prior and she had no idea.

"He is." May and Natasha both fell silent. May allowing Natasha to take in the reality of her baby being Spider-Man; something May herself was still grappling with.

Natasha's hands found their way to her hair and gripped the curly red locks. "I'm gonna fucking Tony." Natasha said, taking in a deep breath. Realizing Tony had brought him into a war and exploited his powers made her want to wring his neck.

The comment caused May to laugh. "I know how you feel, trust me." Her mind briefly wandered back to catching Peter in his suit and listening to the teen explain where he got it. "But it's not Mr. Stark's fault, being a hero is in Peter's DNA; it was there long before he met Tony Stark and even before he became Spider-Man." A smile graced both of their faces when she spoke of the young hero.

Finally after a long silence Natasha asked the only question she could think of. "What's he like?" Natasha didn't try to fight off any the excitement and happiness her voice carried.

* * *

The helicopter ride from Stark to the Baltimore hospital wasn't particularly long, but time was dragging by for Peter. _"Natasha Romanoff. The Black Widow. The world's greatest spy... Mom."_ He couldn't make sense of it. When did she leave him? And why? He was drowning in a sea of uncertainty.

"Peter?" Tony called from the other side of the cabin. Peter's eyes snapped up to him, like he'd forgotten he was there. Tony had grown accustom to peter zoning out or getting distracted easily but this was different. "Kid, you're scarin' me." Tony spoke truthfully, though a small anxious laugh came out. Peter stayed quiet, his shooting between Tony and the tape record he had a death grip on. Tony wanted to pry for answers, of course. But he managed to keep his curiosity at bay for the sake of the trembling teen across from him.

 _"Come on, Stupid! Just tel him already!"_ The voice in his head screamed at him to just say the damn words. Peter shifted uncomfortably in his seat and cleared his throat. "Mr. Stark?" Tony leaned forward to show he was listening. "Is there anything I could do that, um," The anxious kid paused briefly. "That would make you hate me?" As silly as it probably sounded, Peter was terrified of losing Tony. And sure he'd told him a hundred times he wasn't going anywhere but Peter had heard that a lot in his life.

Tony sat back and stared at Peter for a minute, his mouth agape. Why would Peter ever need to as him a question like that? "What?" He shook his head slightly. "No, Peter. There's nothing you could EVER do that would make me hate you." Being emotionally supportive was far from tony's strong suit, but he did his best to be a comforting and supportive figure to Peter. "Why would you ask-" Tony began to pry for why Peter ask that but was interrupted.

"We'll be at Johns Hopkins in 5 minutes, Boss." Friday's voice came over the intercom. Peter's eyes looked out the window and Tony decided his question could wait.  
The hospital was connected too a University, buildings of healing and learning sprawled out in both directions. On any other occasion Peter would have been excited to visit the campuses and libraries but today wasn't a normal day. He wouldn't allow himself time to pick the brains of any doctors like he normally would. No matter insatiable his apatite for knowledge was.

The helicopter touched down on the landing pad and the two exited it, before Tony ordered Friday to keep it circling the hospital so the pad could be used for emergency services. Tony doing the right thing brought a smile to his young face, though he didn't show it to his older mentor.

"This place seems expensive.." Peter commented on the hospital as they made their way through it. All the equipment and even the floors seemed to be brand new.

Tony put his hands into his pockets and straightened his posture. "Well," The billionaire smiled happily and looked around. "I wasn't putting May in just any hospital and I knew this hospital was one of the best at treating brain tumors." One of the benefits of his absurdly large fortune was being able to do practically anything for the people he cared about.

Peter turned away and hid the smile that had formed on his lips from Tony. "Thank you, Mr. Stark, for everything." The young hero knew that Tony didn't need or want to be thanked but Peter thanked him anyway. With everything Tony had done for hi since they met, he felt it was the least he could do.  
The rest of walk was silent, accept for Tony saying 'Good Morning' to the nurses and doctors he thought were cute as they passed them. Most of the things Peter'd heard about Tony since he was a kid had turned out to be wrong. From him being dismissive or selfish, to the notion that he believed himself to be better than other people. One by one Tony proved those things wrong, but the womanizing had been 100% factual.

His musing were ended when the entered May's hospital room.

A flash of curly red hair and green eyes staring into his. Natasha Romanoff was sitting at his Aunt's bedside and everything Peter had been planning to say left his brain, along with air from his lungs. The stunned teen stumbled back out of room until his back hit the wall of the hallway, his eyes not breaking contact with Natasha's.

 _"It's Her...!"_

 _"It's Him!"_

 _Author's Note: Hey everybody! First things first, I am so so sorry for the late update. I've been super busy and struggling pretty hard with depression which induced some serious writers block but here's chapter six! A couple of things I wanted to say; yes the room 616 was a reference to the comics for the reviewer who was curious and no Tony is not the father, and I don't think it's something I'm going to get too deep into. And for anyone who wants to review but is nervous because english isn't there first language. Don't be. I read and appreciate every review and I'm just stoked that you took the time to write it!  
I hope you guys enjoyed and I'm sorry for the bit of a cliffhanger but i wanted to get this chapter out to you guys! As always, Read and Review!? Thank you!_


	7. Home to you

Chapter Seven: Home to you

Peter's breaths were getting caught in his throat and his heart hammered against his ribs. The control he usually had over his powers faltered and he his palms stuck to the beige colored wall. _"It's her!"_ Natasha stood from her seat so fast she knocked it over. _"Oh Christ! It's HER!"_ Natasha looked as shocked as he felt. Her mouth agape she took a few hesitant steps towards him. The tremble in her small hands went unnoticed to everyone but Peter.

Tony took a defensive stance and opened the repolsur hidden in his wrist watch and aimed it at his friend. "What the hell are you doing here, Romanoff?" Tony demanded, the repolsur humming with energy and aimed at Natasha's chest. He grew more defensive when her eyes stayed locked on the boy who had stumbled out into the hallway. "Natasha, you will tell me what the hell you're doing here NOW!" Tony's mind raced. How had she found them? And why? What the hell could Natasha Romanoff possibly want with Peter, even if she did know that he was the Spider-Man.

Natasha took a deep shaky breath and small smile tugged the corners of her lips. It was him! After all those years of thinking she'd never see him again, he was right in front of her. "Peter..." Natasha called out to the boy, who visibly tensed in response. She was focused on the bruises on his pale face and the way he'd glued himself to the wall behind him. She was so entranced in just looking him over that Tony's idle threats fell on deaf ears. "Peter." She called out too him again, praying he'd respond and give her a chance to explain why she was there.

This is wasn't how Peter expected meeting her to go and he hadn't anticipated having a full blown anxiety attack. _"She knows my name?"_ Natasha took two more steps towards him, her hand reaching out to him. "It really is you..." It was the only reason she'd be here, it wasn't deniable anymore. He was the child of the Black Widow.

The words hit Natasha like a punch in the gut. Had he been searching for her? Not once had she considered he might be searching for her as well. "Last chance." Tony stepped in front of Natasha, raising his hand to prove to her that he meant business.

"Tony!" May finally interjected, seeing how Peter and Natasha were too dumb founded to get a word out. "That's _HER!"_ May found it impossible to say the word 'Mom' while talking about Natasha. Even if she knew it was true.

Tony's instinct to protect Peter were controlling most of his actions at that moment, but he managed to pry his eyes off Natasha for long enough to make eye contact with May. "What?" He inquired, raising a brow. "What does that mean?" Tony Stark was a genius, no one could deny that. But when he let his emotions get the better of him, which was often, it blinded him to facts that were in front of his very eyes.

"Tony, it's _HER!_ " May shouted, something she tried her very best not to do. "Why else would she be here?" May lowered her voice.

The man was still confused, his gaze finally turning to his teammate. Her normally calm and collected demeanor had fallen away and it left a woman staring shocked at the teen with her mouth agape. Tony lowered his hand and stared at Natasha, stunned by the fact that she was shaken. He finally turned to Peter, who was still glued to the wall. _"What's up with them-"_ His train of thought ended abruptly. Tony pieced it together and spun around to face Peter. "Her!?" He questioned, pointing his thumb back at Natasha. "That's your Mom!?" The blood had drained from Peter's bruised face and he looked as if he might pass out at any moment.

Peter panicked and managed to pull himself free from the wall and walked quickly away from the room. It was too much. ALL of it was too much; from the beeping of the heart rate monitor next to May's bed to Tony's shouting and the hum of the repolsur on his hand. Peter wasn't sure where he was going but he couldn't be there.

Tony went to go after him but was stopped. "Tony, I think he needs a second." Natasha spoke calmly, though she desperately wanted to run after him.

A small scoff came from Tony. "Oh really? Is that what ya think?" He took a long exaggerated step towards her. "And how well do you know the kid? Hm? How much time have you spent with him?" He questioned, he stopped just a foot away from her. The spy glared back at Tony, but didn't speak. "You don't get to drop back into his life after God knows how long and tell ME what's best for him." The spy's fists were clenched at her sides. Tony let a sigh escape his lips as he finally stepped away from Natasha. "How did you even find him?" He finally questioned. "I removed his information from every database I could get in too." Tony was genuinely curious, and genuinely worried about who else might come snooping.

Natasha allowed herself to relax. "I didn't," She admitted begrudgingly. Tony had done a good job at wiping any trace of Peter from the web. "But I found her, and I knew this would lead me to him." Natasha rubbed her temples. This was far messier and chaotic than she'd hoped, and finding out Peter had been searching for her as well made her feel sick. The unimaginable loneliness he must have felt.

"So what now?" Tony began to press again. "You want us to stand aside, let you take over raising the kid who doesn't know you?" He'd always had a distrust for Natasha, and when it came to Peter that feeling was amplified.

"Tony, I didn't say that." Natasha retorted, annoyed that Tony would assume something like that. "I just want to know him!" Natasha practically shouted without even knowing she'd said it. She let out a small stunned laugh. "I just want to have a relationship with my son."

Tony shook his head. "That ship came and went, Romanoff." He said, coldly. It wasn't fair to Peter for her to decide after all this time to come back.

"Tony..." May finally spoke again. "No one gets to make that decision, except Peter." Tony was stunned, he thought if anyone was going to be on his side, it'd be May. "She's his Mother, Tony. I know you love him, and so do I." May turned her gaze to Natasha, who smiled at her in return. May couldn't imagine what this was like for Natasha, and while she didn't know much about the young spy, she could tell that she absolutely wanted Peter. "But this isn't up to us." The man, who had become a Father figure to Peter stood in silence. Begrudgingly, Tony Stark relented to the will of someone else.

Natasha mouthed the words _"Thank you."_ To the woman who had raised her son, who only smiled in reply. She went for the door, but stopped and turned towards Tony who was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. The usually remorseless "I'm sorry, Tony, I know you-" Tony's hand shot out from his pocket, and silenced her.

"Leave while you're ahead."

* * *

Peter had made his way to the rooftop of the hospital, sitting on the edge with his legs hanging off. He breathed in the cold damp air that was blowing in off the nearby ocean listening to the morning traffic on the streets below. The teen busied himself with picking the pieces of drywall stuck to his hands from ripping himself free from the wall, his nerves slowly calming. He wondered silently how much that was going to cost Mr. Stark. Not that money was any sort of an issue for Tony.

The door behind him opened, and he knew without even turning. "How'd you know I'd be up here?" Peter asked her, still not turning around to look at her.

Natasha took in deep breath of the morning air before speaking. "This is where I'd go." She spoke honestly while slowly approaching the boy. Peter stayed quiet while Natasha made her way to his side, allowing herself to lean over the waist high wall so she could actually look at him. He quickly looked away from her, causing her to wince internally.

"Peter," She wanted to explain it too him. "I'm so sorry-"

"Why now?" The usually timid and mild mannered kid interrupted. He didn't need or want her apologies.

She knew he'd ask that, and she'd run the scenario over in her head a hundred times but even after all that she wasn't sure what to say to him. "Because I missed you.." He finally turned to look at her, and her eyes immediately went to the dark bruises and cuts that spotted his pale face. They were so much worse up close. She did her best to hide the surge of anger. _"Batroc is a fucking dead man."_ The assassin thought to herself, thinking of how she was going to kill him.

Peter could see had a million questions. How old was he when she left? Why did she leave? Who was his Father? He unconsciously ran his hand through his tangled hair. But there was only one question he could get past the lump in his throat. "Was it hard? Not being with me, I mean." Peter knew it must have been, or she wouldn't be sitting next to him. But still he felt himself tense again as he waited for her response.

She looked away from Peter, feeling the full guilt of the decision she'd made all those years ago. "Some times were easier than others," Natasha could have lied. Could have told him that he had been on her mind every minute of everyday. He may have even believed her, Natasha was an exceptional liar after all. But starting their relationship off with lies wasn't the relationship she wanted with her son. "I buried myself in my work. Trying to right all the wrongs I'd done." The memories of working for SHIELD were still fresh in her mind. As were the memories of her years with the KGB. And unbeknownst to her at the time; Hydra. "And then when that stopped working I moved on to the next thing." Natasha recalled how hard she'd struggled with her decision as the years went by.

Peter pulled his legs up on the wall and crossed them as he turned to look at Natasha. "What did you do next that helped you pretend I didn't exist?" Peter didn't mean for it to come off as bitter as it had, but saying he was hurt by being abandoned would be understating things.

Natasha hung her head for a moment, trying to fight off the overwhelming feeling of regret that was seizing her chest. "I didn't pretend-" She almost tried to defend her actions, but stopped herself. They were together for the first time in 13 years, and she knew defending that to him would only widen the rift between them. "I got swept up in-" She stopped, suddenly, a little grin appearing on her lips. "In being a hero." Being an Avenger had consumed her life for the better part of 6 years. Everything else got thrown to the wayside

Peter was silent, his brown eyes once again looking off at the horizon. The Avengers, the saviours of mankind, his idols. They had inadvertently kept his Mom from him... And he wasn't sure how he felt about that.

"I'm so sorry, Peter.." Natasha found her face was in her hands, without really knowing how it got there.

"Please-" The teenager began to protest, shaking his head slowly.

"Peter, please, just let me say this." Natasha practically begged the boy. Peter relented to her. She was doing her best, and that this was no easier on her than it was on him. "I can't get back all the years that I missed. I wish I could, but-" Natasha fought the slight quiver of her lower lip as her mind wandered to all the things the little spider next to her had learned on his own. All the bedtime stories, birthdays and Christmases. God, she'd missed so much. "I'm your Mother. But as of right now, I'm not your Mom." The woman smiled at him, though Peter could see the tears in her eyes. "If you'll let me, I'd like to change that." Natasha knew all too well that her place in his life may have already been filled.

Peter gasped slightly, and attempted to blink away the tears. _"Stop crying, Parker!"_ He mentally cursed knowing Natasha wanted him was... Overwhelming. So the young hero simply nodded his head in agreement, fighting off the urge to reach out to her. "I'd like that."

* * *

Georges sat alone at a Hammer industries test site in the desert outside Albuquerque, New Mexico. Reacquainting himself with the weapons he'd been using since he was just 17. The aging Merc couldn't help but smile at the feeling of the G36 assault rifle in his hands. With a deep breath he pulled the stock tight into his shoulder and squeezed the trigger. Batroc had always prefered things up close and personal, and enjoyed the thrill of beating his opponents in hand to hand combat. But that didn't mean he wasn't an expert marksman and the bullets were hitting the targets at nearly 200 yards.

"Georges?" Justin's voice came over a radio he'd been given by the eccentric arms dealer.

"Oui?"He answered in his native tongue.

"I'm on my way to the facility with the United Order." Georges could hear the uneasiness in Justin's voice. He obviously still didn't trust or like the zealots that they'd recruited. "You're sure about this?" Justin let his nervousness get the better of him, again. It was clear to Batroc that Justin had little control over his emotions.

"They're necessary to killing the Avengers." Batroc assured him, his eyes finding the weapons he'd laid out for the United Order to train with. The weapons ranged from the assault rifle in his hand, to shoulder mounted Anti-Aircraft missile launchers.

"You've said that, but I can't see how these idiots-"

"Enough..." Batroc wasn't interested in debating the usefulness of the fanatics. "The United Order are not only a crucial part of MY plan, but they are now our allies." The radio was silent for a long time, and Georges knew he was still skeptical of any plan that involved the use of the United Order. "They are a means to an end, Justin. Nothing more." Truthfully, Georges hadn't given much thought what he was going to with the survivors after the remaining Avengers were in the ground.

Georges watched as a line of black SUV's entered the compound. "Way to be inconspicuous.." He shook his head in irritation. A convoy of black trucks rolling down the road draws a lot of attention, and they didn't need that right now.

Justin exited the first one vehicle and speedwalked to Batroc's side. "Alright this is all of them," Justin said, eyes the 150 cultist as they filed out of the SUV's. "You sure about this?" That comment got him a glare from Batroc.

"Don't ask me that again." He ordered in a low, but firm tone. "Good afternoon, everyone." Georges greeted the crowd, who all wore eager and apprehensive smiles. "We are pressed for time, so Ill get to the point. We all, for various reasons, want to see the Avengers eliminated." His keen eyes scanned the crowd of faces for any signs of uncertainty. He couldn't afford to have a zealot who lacked resolve. "I will teach you how to fire each of the weapons you see." A hand shot up from the crowd, shaking slightly as it practically begged him to call on it. "Yes." He sighed.

The young woman from the warehouse forced herself to the front of the group. "Um, yeah, it's not that I think I know more about warfare than you; but how are we supposed to kill them with these weapons?" She was skeptical. "The Avengers have beaten Aliens, demigods, and killer robots. How're humans with standard issue military gear and little training going to kill them?" Georges smiled slightly, impressed by the young woman.

"What's your name, girl?" He sidestepped the question for a moment.

"Jasmine." She responded shortly, not breaking eye contact with the older merc that most people wouldn't dare challenge.

"The fatal flaw in both Loki and Ultron's plan was simple; they challenged the Avengers too a head to head fight." He smirked thinking of it. It was an absurd idea, something even Loki had understood, which is why he tried to break them before his army arrived.

"And your plan differs from theirs? By the looks of it," She shrugged her shoulders and looked around at the small army of people that surrounded her. "You're training us for a war." Jasmine continued to argue.

Georges strolled over to the woman and stared down into her brown eyes. "Oh it won't be much of a battle," He leaned in ever so slightly, trying to probe for any sign of fear or uneasiness in the girl. Too his surprise, she didn't flinch "I'm going to do what Ultron and Loki did not, I'm going to use Stark's vanity against him." Batroc began to explain the plan to the group, but mainly to Jasmine who was quickly earning the merc's respect. "The Stark Holiday Fundraiser that he hosts every Christmas eve is the perfect opportunity to ambush them." The smile disappeared from the girl's face, and he could feel dozens of horrified eyes staring at him. "Stark and Romanoff will be there, certainly. And I have a feeling Captain Rogers and his little posse of outlaws will be there." The range fell into an uncomfortable silence.

"Your plan, it's... it's..." Jasmine searched from the words to describe it.

"Horrifying." Georges answered, nodding his head in agreement. "I know, and I don't care." He spoke truthfully. "So many people have tried to kill them over the years, I'm sure they don't even remember half their names. I don't intend on rejoining the Avengers countless adversaries in prison... or in the dirt." Georges leaned back away from the girl, as he spoke loud enough for everyone to hear him. "I am going to kill the Avengers, and anyone who gets in my-" He stopped himself. " _Our_ way." Their eyes stayed locked, and Georges watched as the reality of what they were going to do set in.

"It's what God commands, my child." The leader of the United Order, a man by the name of Tom Mathis, chimed in.

Georges held back a laugh and patted the younger woman on the shoulder. "Yes, it's your God's will." Jasmine relented to him, bowing her head slightly and breaking eye contact. She knew he was right, of course. Killing the Avengers wouldn't be easy, and they had to catch them off guard. But... Her mind couldn't help but think of the innocent people who could and would be collateral damage.

"Now," Georges spun around on the heel of his boot and made his way to one of the 6 M2 .50 caliber machine guns that were laid out. "Every single one of you will have a part to play in the battle ahead."

The rest of the day went on pretty much how Georges expected it too. After hours of discussing battle plans, forming groups for specific tasks, and training them for said tasks the United Order seemed ready to take on the Avengers. Though Georges and Justin knew they weren't, and they would never be. Most of these people would be killed in the fighting, even with the training and weapons they were being provided.

The sun had set on the desert a few hours earlier and most of the United Order had gone back to the airport to go home. Georges could hear the only other person left at the bomb range approaching him. "Mr. Batroc?" Tom called out to his new ally.

"Georges." He corrected shortly as he loaded the guns back into their cases. The cult leader was going to pry at Georges' brain, again, searching for an answers to questions that were irrelevant. Or at least irrelevant to his plan.

"May I ask you something?" Georges turned towards the older man, and studied him for a moment. The man was unassuming and even seemed pleasant in conversation. A facade, but a good one. Finally Georges nodded, reluctantly. "Why are you doing this? We, which is why you sought us out. But you? You're reason is still a mystery." Tom walked up to Georges and stared into his cold blue eyes, as if they'd give him the answer he was searching for.

"It's simple, really." Georges shrugged and turned back to what he was doing. "They're a challenge." He heard the man sigh under his breath, only picking it up because of his super-human hearing. "You don't sound satisfied." Georges said in an irritated tone.

"That's it? They're a challenge?" He questioned. "No greater purpose?" Tom's beliefs guided everything he did and it made grasping a man like Georges motivations... Difficult.

Georges held back a scoff and turned towards Tom. "What, Like you? Killing in the name of your God?" He questioned, though he obviously knew the answer. "There's been a billion men just like you, and there'll be a billion more. Save your preaching for your followers." He finished in a huff.

"You don't believe in our cause?" Tom continued to press the issue, ignoring Georges' rigid posture and clenching fists.

"It doesn't matter what I believe in." Georges tried to end the conversation, slamming the lid closed on the crate filled with mortar barrels. "If you're right then God's plan and mine seem to be one and the same."

"It does to me," Tom was growing angry with the younger man's defiance of God. "I won't pledge the lives of my people too a blasphemer who-" The mercenary had heard enough and spun around, wrapping a hand Tom's neck and lifting him from the ground.

"Listen to me carefully." George demanded, keeping the man raised from the ground, his feet flailing and his hands gripping Georges wrist. "I chose you and your group because I knew your devotion would be useful. Cease to be useful, or in anyway interfere with the mission at hand; and I will snap your neck." With a light toss he practically threw Tom backwards into the dirt.

"The day of reckoning is coming, for all of us and when it arrives, you will be forced to answer for the atrocities you have commited." Tom assured him, a bitterness in his now scratchy voice. He realized that his followers were nothing more than a tool to Batroc; and he HATED that.

A small smirk spread across Georges' lips as Tom continued, even after the threat against his life. As agitating as Tom was, he was a true believer. "I suppose we'll see after _we're_ done killing the Avengers." He emphasized Tom's involvement in his plan, regardless of his feelings about him or his methods. "Now, if there's nothing else, I'm not quite finished planning." Georges ignored his reluctant comrade as he indignantly stood from the dirt and headed back towards the truck that was waiting for him.

"I guess you don't like them much either?" Justin had been watching from afar, interested to see how the Mercenary and prophet would get along.

"I don't need too," Georges shrugged. "I rarely liked the men under my command, and I doubt they liked me." He momentarily reflected on his time in the military. "We'll succeed because we all share the same goal. Killing the Avengers; it's that's all that matters now.

 _Author's note: Hey guys! Here's chapter 7! I know that was a really long wait and I'm sorry for that and I want to be open with you guys about why it took so long. I had to put my dog to sleep in february and it took me a long to time to be able sit at my computer because she wasn't at my feet. And I'm also starting to date again (I split up with my girlfriend of 4 years in September) so a lot of my spare time is going to that. I don't want you guys to be worried about me abandoning this story because I wont. But I also don't want to post a chapter I don't feel is any good simply get a chapter posted.  
As always, please read and review! Thanks for reading and thank you to everyone who's left a comment, I do truly appreciate them!_


	8. Emotionally Compromised

Chapter Eight: Emotionally compromised

Natasha and Peter sat quietly in a restaurant overlooking Baltimore harbor. Most people would have thought it awkward, but not Natasha. After so many years of dreaming of being with her boy, but it always being out of reach. She was happy to sit in silence and watch him, even as he scarfed down 7 sandwiches in 25 minutes. It was impressive, actually.

"So you got bitten by a mutated spider on a school field trip, and it didn't occur to you that maybe you should tell someone?" Natasha finally asked. Peter's powers were impressive, certainly. But that didn't change the fact that the spider bite could have very easily been fatal. "It could have killed you." She tried not to scold the teenager in front of her, considering they'd only really known each other for a few hours.

"It seemed just as likely that it'd give me awesome powers!" Peter protested with a smirk, his eyes briefly glancing at the permanent dark spot on the back of his right hand. The spider may have paid for the bite with it's life, but it likely left the young hero with the last scar he would ever get.

Natasha held off the smile that was pulling at the corners of her mouth. "No it didn't." She responded, finally giving into the smile, sliding her leftover fries to the teen as he finished his sandwich. Her heart was practically skipped a beat every time he spoke, the teenager's voice was like music to her.

"Yeah well," Peter placed the tip of his finger on a fork on the table and lifted it. "They are pretty cool." Natasha watched him silently, marvelling at his powers. She'd seen a lot of incredible things over the years; super soldiers, genius billionaires in suits of robotic armor and even demigods from legend. But she still found herself awestruck but this boy's abilities. Beyond the immeasurable strength that he possessed was speed and agility. One day, with a bit of training and direction, there would be few beings that could match him.

 _"Direction."_ Natasha shuddered at the thought of who might've ended up being the fledgling hero's mentor if it weren't for Tony. Though he was far from the perfect role model, and he had dragged Peter into a war.

"N-Natasha?" A quiet and nervous voice dragged her back to reality and to the teen across from her. "Are you okay?" He questioned, visibly tensing as he stared into her green eyes. The kid was awfully nervous, and she wondered quietly if it was just around her.

"Yeah," She shook off the anger that had taken hold before she even realized it was happening. Much to Peter's dismay. "Yeah, I'm fine it's just..." Natasha bit her lip. Peter had a far stronger relationship with Tony than he did with her, and she feared him reacting negatively to her implying that Tony had used him.

Everytime she fell silent Peter felt as if his heart might explode. "Natasha?" The anxious teen again ventured nervously, trying his best to control his breathing. Peter wanted to ask her what was wrong, wanted to know it wasn't something he'd done.

Natasha's eyes were drawn to the hairs on the back of the boy's hands; noticing how his hairs stood on end everytime he was anxious. "You didn't belong there, in Leipzig." She finally said. "That was our war, not yours." Peter sat back in his seat, confused.

"But, you were for the accords, weren't you?" He asked.

"I was, and I still am." Natasha spoke softly. "Oversight and accountability was and still is necessary." She paused. The cynical part of Natasha that she would never rid herself of, doubted Stark had bothered to try to explain both sides to Peter. Hell, he probably hadn't told him much of anything about the situation; just that he was right and Cap was wrong. Natasha kept that part too herself. "But bringing a kid into a dangerous situation, with an infinite number of negative and dangerous outcomes to exploit his powers." She finished with a light sigh, understanding the bewildered look on the teen's bruised face. Tony was more than just a mentor to the hero Spider-man. He was a father figure to Peter Parker, and one that he obviously needed.

"He didn't exploit my powers.." Peter protested in a small voice.

"Not intentionally." Natasha assured him. She paused, watching Peter grapple with idea that he may have been used by the person he admired most. Natasha opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the buzzing of her phone in her pocket. _"Stark."_ Natasha frowned. _"Speak of the devil, and he shall appear."_ She knew at some point he'd interrupt their time together, but they'd only been away from the hospital for a little over an hour. "Yes?" She answered the phone, her irritation evident in her tone.

"I'm sure you're very busy," Tony started without so much as a greeting. "But we still have work to do if we wanna track down Batroc." Natasha's eyes came back to Peter, who pretended he couldn't hear everything Tony was saying. The two heros had butted heads a lot over the years. But when it came to Peter Tony would do anything to protect him, but so would Natasha.

"We have to find him right this second?" Natasha had a justified suspicion that Tony was just trying to keep an eye on her.

Tony was quiet for a moment. Truthfully, Tony knew finding Batroc was more a matter of when not if. "No, it can't." He hung up before Black Widow could respond.

Natasha glared at her phone for a moment, before jamming it back into her jacket pocket. Stark was once again exerting his position over her, and it was more infuriating than ever. "Who was that?" Peter continued to pretend he hadn't heard the exchange.

"Stark," She kept her anger to herself the best she could. "I'm sorry, I have to head back to New York." Natasha felt guilty, even if she knew it wasn't her fault. Peter deserved her undivided attention, and she couldn't give him that.

"It's about Batroc, isn't it?" Peter asked. Natasha nodded the answer, though she couldn't have cared less about finding the merc. "I should come-"

"No!" Natasha shot him down. "We don't want you to be anywhere near this." She spoke for Stark as well. If the two heros had one thing left in common was that they both loved the little spider.

Peter opened his mouth to protest, but stopped. He wasn't sure what he found more frustrating, the fact that he was now being treated like a child by both Natasha and Mr. Stark. Or that fact that Natasha and him had only been together for a few hours and she was already being dragged away. "Okay.." He relented too her. It wasn't worth fighting about.

"When this is over you and I can do whatever you want, okay?" Peter simply nodded in agreement. _"God, he looks so much like his Father."_ Natasha reached out with her hand and brushed the boys hair out of his face.  
Peter recoiled from the sudden contact, much to Natasha's disappointment. _"Too much."_ The two had a long way to go before they'd be where Natasha wanted them to be. "Here," Natasha reached into the purse she was carrying, being careful to conceal the Glock 43 within. "I wasn't planning on giving this to you yet, but-" She pulled out a folded up piece of paper and handed it to the teen. "I wrote this to you, when you were little." She visibly winced when she thought of it.

Peter perked up. "Before you left?" He was so very curious about their time together before she left.

"Before." She handed it to him without much enthusiasm. The old, tattered and torn letter was connected to the most painful memory in her lengthy list of painful memories. "It probably doesn't mean much to you now, but maybe-" It was strange for her feel out of her element. "Maybe it'll help you understand."

* * *

"This is a waste of time," Clint remarked as he and Steve pulled up to an old apartment building where Spider-Man had his confrontation with Batroc. "You know as well as I do he isn't dumb enough to have left anything behind." The mercenary hadn't avoided capture for some years by being careless.

"No," Cap agreed. "But one of his men might have." The two made their way to the front door of the building. Which had been condemned by the city a year earlier. The local police had investigated the scene after responding to the fight but hadn't checked the building. "What about the buildings owner?" Rogers asked while Clint quickly picked the deadbolt. The neighborhood was poorly lit, which was amplified by the moonless night. _"No forced entry. So they either picked the lock, or they had a key."_ The super-soldier surveyed the scene around him. The scene had been cleaned except for the obvious crater in the ground left by the rpg.

"Thomas Mathis. He's a nobody," Clint paused as he opened the door. "An ex-cop." Clint had read every file that there was to read on the man. Nothing popped off the page screaming _"Person of interest!"_

"Ex?" Steve inquired.

"He was thrown off the force and indicted for taking money from some mafiosos in '01." Clint obviously didn't think anything of him. "Was sentenced to 7 years in a Federal prison but got paroled after 3 years." Steve walked through the dark entryway of the apartment. Relying on his superhuman eyesight he noticed boot prints in the layer of dust that caked the wooden floors. It'd been a long time since anybody had called this place home.

"What's he do these days?" Cap crouched down and traced over a relatively fresh chip in the wood. Batroc's men had certainly packed up in a hurry when the young hero had stumbled upon them.

"He's a pastor." Clint proceeded further into the building, flashlight in one hand and the other on the pistol on his hip. "Again, the guy's a nobody." Clint was clearly convinced that Tom had no connection to Batroc. But Steve wasn't convinced. Why of all the empty buildings in New York did Batroc pick this one? Why was there no sign he'd forced his way in?

"I think we should pay him a visit." Cap said, drawing a dumbfounded look from Clint.

"You're kidding right?" He turned to face Captain America.

"Nope." He responded his mind venturing to the thought of the Spider-man. The kid had gone up against one of the most dangerous men on the planet and lived to tell the tale. And more than that, he hadn't shy'd away from the fight, even when he was clearly outmatched. A smirk graced his bearded face, he understood why his old friend cared for the boy.

"Being out in the open like this is one thing, Cap." Clint started. "But accosting someone and questioning them about an escaped mercenary is totally different. I don't know about you but I'm not trying to get sent back to the Raft." Cap wasn't moved by the prospect of getting captured. He was more than confident in his ability to evade capture. "I mean if Ross gets wind of us being here.." Unlike Steve, Clint had a family to look after. 3 children and wife that had been put through more than any one person should be asked to bare.

"I'm more worried about letting Georges Batroc loose on the world than I am of Ross catching me." Steve spoke in a calm but determined voice. "If you want to head back home that's-"

"Okay..." Clint gave in. "But if I go to prison for this, Laura's gonna kill you." Steve chuckled at the thought of Laura, a loving and kind woman, trying to kill him over her husband.

"A price I'm willing to pay." Cap smiled at his friend.

* * *

 _"There's side effects."_ Georges recalled Justin's words while sitting in his darkened room within the Hammer industries warehouse. He'd dealt with headaches for years. Stemming from years and years of combat. But this was far and away the worst of the hundreds of migraines he'd dealt with.

Georges winced as another wave of pain hit him and sent the room spinning. He managed to force his eyes open as the door to his makeshift room was opened. "Still not any better?" Justin questioned. It'd been nearly 8 hours since the headaches had debilitated the mercenary on the flight back to New York. Georges nodded his response and closed his eyes, shielding them from the fluorescent lighting of the warehouse that was flooding the room and his senses.

"Did you get me the building plans for Stark's fundraiser?" He asked, though he already knew the answer. Justin hesitated for a moment. They were getting closer to their goal, and with each step he was less sure of the decision he'd made releasing Batroc. "Justin," He reopened his eyes. "The file." He ordered. Georges head felt as if it might explode at any moment and he had little patience for Justin.

Without a second's hesitation he handed them over. But he was less sure of his conviction than ever. Maybe he should have just let go of the anger he was holding for Tony Stark. "What about my team?" Georges interrupted his thoughts.

"Still vetting a few candidates." Georges nodded, and tried to fight off a wince as yet another wave hit him. Justin watched the the merc's hands clench and unclench, over and over again. He was desperately trying to pretend he was fine. "Maybe we should get you to a doctor. I have one that owes me favor, and great deal of money." Justin offered, his mind being dragged away for anxiety of the mission that was ahead. Being replaced with... Concern?

"Stop." Georges didn't have time to deal whatever was causing his unrelenting migraine.

"If you're serious about killing Tony Stark then you need to be at your best." That drew a pained glare from Georges.

"I am far more aware of that than you." He argued with Hammer, something they hadn't actually done.

"Then what's the issue?" Justin threw his hands up in the air in frustration. "Just see the fucking doctor! What's the worst thing that happens? You get a clean bill of health and it eases my mind?" Georges rolled his eyes. Easy his mind? Why would he, of all people, care about easing his mind. Georges clenched his jaw and fought off the urge to vomit; that would only help Justin's case.

"I hate doctors.." He admitted begrudgingly. Justin raised an eyebrow at that. "I spent more time than I care to think about in operating rooms and in hospital beds recovering from injuries." His hand absentmindedly traced the scar of the rod that had been implanted in his right arm. One of over a dozen surgeries over many years.

"But what if you ARE sick?" Justin posed the question.

Georges stopped and thought about the question. "All my chips are in on the this one." He answered honestly. "Ill either die in battle with the Avengers, or-" He hadn't thought about the _'after'_ part. Actually killing them had seemed unattainable until recently. A goal that he knew he'd never reach, so he didn't bother with another step. "If I'm sick, well then I guess I'm doomed regardless." He pretended to be more okay with his death than he actually was. Deep in his chest, he could feel the anxiety growing.

* * *

"This is a terrible idea, partner." Natasha noted from the seat in the back of the car as it drove down the dark New York city street.

"Not my idea." Clint protested.

"It was mine." Steve took responsibility. "And I know it's a risk-"

"That's an understatement." The Black Widow interjected.

"BUT," Steve raised his voice slightly, but not in anger. "If we want to catch Batroc before he hurts anyone else, we can't leave any stone unturned." Her mind immediately went to Peter, and the mental image of the cuts and bruises that covered his face. Maternal instincts kept her quiet for the remainder of the ride, if it could bring her closer to killing that man then she'd do it.

The trio was quiet, from the car to the apartment lobby, and up the elevator to the 7th floor where Tom Mathis lived. Natasha took the liberty of banging her hand on the door, showing her obvious impatience and gaining a concerned look from Rogers. Though it went unnoticed.

The old green door cracked open and a brown eye stared at the 3, confused. "Thomas Mathis?" Clint asked.

"Yes?" Tom responded, his heart hammering against his chest. The Black Widow, Hawkeye, and Captain America were at his door, and there was only one explanation.

"We just need to ask you a few questions." Steve spoke with usual calm and soft voice.

"You guys cops or something?" Tom played dumb. Natasha could see right through it, but she kept up the ruse regardless. "Well then come back with a warrant." The pastor went to close the but it stopped abruptly when Natasha jammed her foot into it.

"It'll just be a minute, sir." She grinned, but her eyes showed her true feelings. She'd slit his throat without hesitation if it got her the information they needed.

"Like I said, come back with a warrant-" Clint lost his patience and used his shoulder to throw the door open.

"Mind if we come in?" He smirked at the man as he stumbled backwards. Natasha followed without hesitation but Cap was frozen in the doorway. This wasn't something he was accustomed to. "So why don't you tell us what you know about Georges Batroc?" Clint asked, picking up a photo that was on table by the door.

"Wh-Who?" The bewildered man questioned. Stunned that they'd actually forced their way into his home.

"He's a mercenary, escaped prison awhile back." Clint spoke in an unusually collected voice, as he wandered around the apartment with no real purpose. "He was spotted at a building you own, actually."

"Only what I've heard on the news." Tom responded as quickly as he could.

"Bullshit." Natasha spat. He stared his response back at her, stunned by the sudden anger in her voice.

"I only know what's been on the news." Tom said again.

Natasha shook her head and took two long steps forward and front kicked in the stomach. The kick carried every bit of force she could muster and it took Tom off his feet with ease. "You're lying!" She yelled in anger. In that moment, Tom was Batroc, he was the man who'd harmed her baby.

"Stop!" Clint wrapped his arms around Natasha before she could move for the man again. The woman struggled and swore as she was forcibly moved back. "Stop. Stop." Clint knew Natasha better than anyone else, and even he'd never seen her so emotionally compromised.  
Cap watched them silently, intrigued and confused by his teammates sudden outburst.

"That piece of shit knows something." Natasha lowered her voice so only Clint could hear her.

"And this is your plan for getting him to cooperate?" The older spy questioned. "You know as well as I do that won't work here. If he's involved we need more than fear, we need leverage." Clint felt Natasha's loosen as she stopped fighting against his grip.

"Leverage we don't have, Clint." Her partner sighed his response. He hadn't dug up anymore dirt on the ex-cop because he'd already convinced himself that Tom wasn't a person of interest. But Clint was every bit as good as Natasha at spotting a lie. And Tom was lying to them.

"I made a mistake, we'll find something and come back." Natasha shoved him away from her.

"Yeah, and in the meantime we can just wait for Peter to try to get a rematch." Natasha knew she let the name slip, but she didn't care. Tom climbed off the floor, shakily, unsure of whether or not the Black Widow would make a move for him again.

"You're connected to this," Natasha said. "I don't know how, but nothing stays hidden from me for long." She made her way back to the door, followed by Clint and Steve. She'd be back,

Tom waited in the silence of his apartment, listening for their footsteps to be gone before he rushed to close and lock the door. He was aware that a deadbolt and chain would do absolutely nothing to keep any of them out. "I have to warn them." His mind immediately went to the United Order and his allies of circumstance in Batroc and Hammer. The Avengers were on to them.

* * *

The ride back to the tower was unusually quiet. None of them knew what the next move was, or how to get Tom to admit to them what he knew. And it wasn't like they could go to the police or the FBI.  
"Nat," Steve finally spoke. "Can you please explain what that was about." He didn't sound angry, or even upset, which is what Natasha had expected.

Natasha breathed deeply, thinking of how to answer. Her inclination, like always, was to lie. "Batroc hurt my baby." She stared out the car window, her arms folded over her chest. "How would you react?" Clint and Steve's eyes met, a look of confusion on their faces.

Clint turned around to face Natasha. "Your baby?" It took him under a minute to piece it together. "The Spider-Man?" Clint chuckled slightly. It was fitting, obviously.

"Yes." She confirmed. "If Peter finds Batroc before we do," Natasha stopped, shaking her head trying to free herself from the thought. If something happened to the boy she'd never forgive herself.

"Spider-Man," Steve said the name almost ironically. The boy from Leipzig was far from being a man. "Your son?" He asked asked. Natasha nodded her response, noticing Cap was watching her in the rearview mirror. Steve wondered briefly if his friend had know that Spider-Man was her son during the battle in Leipzig. He found that doubtful, considering Stark is the one who brought him along. And no mother would ever bring their child near anything like that willingly. _"God she must want to kill him."_ Steve held off a chuckle. Natasha loved Tony, far more than she would ever admit, but it was apparent that she'd move heaven and Earth to keep the boy safe. "I can't wait to meet him." Steve smiled at her in the mirror.

Steve and Natasha had become friends over the years, and that was something the captain was extremely proud of. Yet he could never shake he feeling that no matter how close they got, the Black Widow would always be guarding secrets. "I can't wait to meet him." Steve watched her fight off a smile. God forbid she let anyone know she was happy about anything.

"Meet him again, you mean?" Clint clarified.

"Yes, again." Cap laughed. He was fishing around in his brain to try to find the name that'd slipped at the apartment, while she was a moment away from ending Tom's life. "Peter." Both he and Natasha smiled at the name. "I can't wait to meet Peter again." Natasha again felt the weight of her secret being lifted off her shoulders. It even overshadowed the feeling of losing control on her life.

* * *

Johns Hopkins was an incredible facility and it sat just miles off the the ocean. May had even talked about visiting the city on days when her bills weren't piling up.  
Peter couldn't stand see her the hospital bed. "I love you, Aunt May." The teen pressed a gentle kiss to the top of May's head while she slept. He loved her, but he couldn't stay there.

Peter again made his way to the roof, his backpack in hand which contained his suit. He knew all his idols thought he was just a stupid kid who needed protecting, and yeah, maybe he was a stupid kid. But the Spider-Man didn't need protection, from anyone.

"Hey Peter!" Karen greeted as happy and cheerfully as she always did. "How's the search coming?" The AI asked.

"Uh, good." He wasn't expecting the question, though he probably should have been. "It's over, actually." It was a strange realization that he hadn't come to until that moment. The search that had consumed his life for close to 2 months was over and he hadn't even had a chance to relish that. "I found her.." Peter ran hand over his head.

"What's her name?" Karen asked, curiously.

"Natasha Romanoff." It still felt strange, and somehow wrong, to think of anyone but Mary Parker as his mother. It'd been years since Mary and Richard had been buried after a plane crash had claimed their lives. But still the memories of being tucked into bed or playing at the park were fresh in his mind.

"Very funny, Peter." Karen laughed her response, obviously not buying his answer. "Have you met her yet?" The AI continued.

"Karen, I'm serious." The voice that normally responded to whatever he said was unusually quiet.

"Peter," His heart was racing, even though he had no idea why. Karen wasn't his biological Mother, or his Aunt, or his mentor, she was... The AI that Tony had built into his suit. "That's amazing!" She exclaimed, much to Peter's surprise. "Have you met her yet?" Peter leaned against one of the AC units on the roof and took in a deep breath of the frigid winter air. Again he realized he hadn't stopped, even for a second, to process what had happened over the last 24 hours.

He'd found his Mom, Natasha Romanoff, who to his shock was also looking for him. They'd sat down and had lunch together. "Yeah, we talked this morning, and then we had _lunch._ " Peter chuckled slightly. "I thought I'd be happy, but-" He stopped, biting his cheek as he thought. He was SUPPOSED to be happy, so why wasn't he?

The anxiety hadn't lessened the way Peter thought it would, it'd merely changed angles. Fear of not finding her, and being alone in the world had been replaced with fear of disappointing her; of being rejected. "But you're not happy?" Peter pushed off the AC unit and tried to free himself from the feelings that were plaguing him.

"Karen, can you find the tracker I attached to the van Batroc and his men escaped in." The fledgling hero forcibly changed the subject. Peter didn't want to think about any of that right then.

"Would you like me to forward it Mr. Stark?" She asked.

"What!? No!" Peter didn't want Mr. Stark and Natasha finding the mercenary before him. "Tell me where he is." He felt it should have been obvious.

"Peter, I don't think that's a good idea. You're not ready for someone like him." The AI reasoned. After all their previous encounter hadn't gone particularly well for the spiderling.

Peter groaned into the icy air. "Karen I know what I'm doing!" He tried to assure her. "Now give me the coordinates!" He was being unusually demanding.

"Peter," She sounded exasperated. "I must protest-"

"Karen!" He yelled at her, for the first time ever. "Just do what I say!" There was ping of guilt in his chest, but he brushed it off. Karen didn't respond for a long time, as if she didn't know what to say, which was confusing to Peter.

"...No.."

 _Author's Note: Okay so this chapter took way longer to finish than I thought it would but here's chapter 8! So I kind of wanted to explore the emotions I felt Natasha and Peter would be experiencing, and I've always wanted to explore the depths of Karen's AI and it's something I feel is pretty interesting. And I've decided I am going to reveal Peter's Father in this story, so Ill let you guys formulate who that might be (: And thank you everyone who has reviewed, whether positive or critically I appreciate the feed back and it's what makes writing this story so much fun. Please read and review! Ill try to get the next chapter up asap!_


	9. Letters from the Past

Chapter Nine: Letters from the Past

Peter stood in dumbfounded silence. "No?" He repeated. "What the hell do you mean _NO_!?" Peter wasn't aware that she could even tell him no. She had been designed to listen to him, hadn't she?

"If you go after him you are going to get hurt," Karen tried to reason with the teen. Though that was easier said than done. "And I can't let that happen." She'd failed to protect him from the mercenary once before, that wasn't going to happen twice. Peter kicked the gravel that covered the roof in frustration. "I know you're trying to do the right thing, but I care about you and-"

"You don't even know what it is to care about something." Peter spat bitterly.

"Peter.." Karen's voice carried a warning tone. "You are being hurtful." The AI realized that Peter was desperate to prove himself to Natasha. And of course he knew Karen cared. And whether it was programing, or something else, even Karen wasn't sure anymore. Not that she spent much time pondering the question.

The flustered teen took a deep breath and fought off the urge to apologize. "Georges Batroc is a killer that I could have stopped the last time we met, and I failed." Peter had done some research on the man. Beyond his mercenary work was a lengthy and impressive military career. And he had seen his skills first hand, evident by his healing bruises.  
"If he kills anyone, it'll be because of me." Karen stayed silent, the kid had so much weight bearing down on him. Weight he didn't need to carry, but was saddled with regardless. "You know it and I know it and-" He took a deep breath. "And Natasha and Mr. Stark know it." The idea of anyone dying because of him was terrifying enough on its own without it being coupled with fear of letting down his heros.

"You're right," Peter winced at the words. "He is a killer. And somebody you neither ready to stop, or responsible for stopping." Karen found it absurd for so much responsibility and guilt to be thrown on someone so young.

He truly wanted to believe that. And part of the young hero wanted her to say something to take the unimaginable guilt he constantly felt away. Uncle Ben sprang to his mind, however briefly. "What good are these powers if I don't use them to protect people?" When it came to his powers, if he wasn't using them for the greater good then he was no better than the villains of the world. "Spider-Man exists to protect people." Peter straightened out his thoughts again. "He can't do that if he's being treated like a baby all the time." He spoke in third person, as if Spider-Man was a separate entity.

"Nice try, Kiddo. I'm still not giving you those coordinates." Karen shot him down, again.  
The teen, in a sudden fit of rage, or petulance as Karen saw it, threw his back-pack into the ground with all of his immeasurable strength. "Peter stop it." Peter felt a tad bit embarrassed by his own antics but kept it to himself.

He scooped the bag off the ground, feeling defeated. No matter what he did or said, Karen would never give him Batroc's location.

"Peter." Karen's voice came again, just before he could pull the mask off.

He sighed, his breath visible in the cold air. "What?" He hissed.

"You dropped something." Peter's eyes went back to the spot where his bag had landed. The note from Natasha.

Peter quickly snached the letter from the ground, breathing a sigh of relief without noticing. "What is it?" Karen inquired.

"It's a letter from," Peter paused, fidgeting with the paper in his hand. He wanted to call her _Mom,_ but he couldn't. The word refused to leave his mouth, regardless of whether or not it was true. "From Natasha. She said she wrote it before she left. Again." His mind tried desperately to find a memory of her. To find anything at all. But there wasn't one; she was a stranger to him.

"Have you read it?" Karen dragged him back to reality. She noted how his heart rate picked up again, but not from anger like when he was demanding Batroc's location. The spiderling was anxious about the lack of a relationship with the woman who gave birth to him.

He shrugged. "No. I mean it can't imagine it says anything that makes this feel any better." Peter grimaced at his own pessimism. Of course he _wanted_ there to be something in the hand written note that would help him understand why she left. But that didn't mean whatever explanation she gave was going to suffice. For all he knew the note could be a total lie. He grimaced again.

"I think..." Karen began and suddenly stopped, like even she wasn't sure of what to say about the letter. "I think you should read it. Agent Romanoff wouldn't have given it to you if she didn't think it would help you understand." Her sensors quickly scanned it. "Judging by the deterioration of the paper, she's been carrying it for well over a decade." A prized possession of the now famous spy, Karen surmised. A tether to the baby she'd left behind.

 _"A decade."_ Peter thought about it silently and began unfolding the note. How many thousands of times had she thought of him? His hands trembled slightly, anxious for whatever the letter might say.  
A sudden memory of her voice, the one from his nightmare, rushed into his mind as he read the first line.

 _Hey there, little one._

* * *

"Wait, Natasha is the kid's _Mom?"_ Happy and Pepper sat at the table in Happy's apartment with Tony and listened to him explain his predicament. Happy knew Peter and Natasha rather well.  
One was a sweet, innocent kid who wanted nothing more than to leave the world a better place than he'd found it. A smile came to his face when he thought about the boy. Happy felt privileged to be a part of the teenager's life. Watching Peter grown into a true Avenger made the constant texts at all hours of the day and night worth it.  
The other..? A master assassin, and a master manipulator. Someone who was known the world over for her espionage. The 'forehead' of security had known the Black Widow for close to a decade. He watched her best a dozen men in combat, and helped battle an alien army that had come to conquer the planet with a demigod. Saying she was an impressive young woman was an understatement. But for her to be a Mother to Peter Parker? A mentor to Spider-Man alongside Tony? To be a _Co-parent_ with him? Happy was less than confident in either of them being able to do that.

"Tony." Pepper had been uncharacteristically quiet when Tony was talking about the situation he found himself in. She knew her lover well. Well enough to know how much Peter meant to him. But that love didn't change who Tony was as a person, or change his distrust for Agent Romanoff. "Did you drag her away from that boy?" Pepper asked with a sigh.

Tony's averted gaze and shameful silence answered her question. "Tony, God damnit." She stood from her spot and buried her face in her hands. Pepper had only met the spiderling a few times but she'd gotten well acquainted with his past. Tony had spent hours poring over the tragedies that had marred his rather short life. A plane crash claiming the lives of his parents at just 6. Then his Uncle been at 14, shot dead in the street. Over the little money he had in his wallet.

"What?" Tony finally responded. "You're siding with Romanoff? You know how dangerous and unpredictable she is!" Tony argued his side, but all 3 of them knew it was more to reassure himself. A desperate attempt to curb the guilt he felt in the core of his being.

Pepper had never been terribly fond of Natasha, having had the woman infiltrate their lives in order to report on Tony. Natasha's flirting with the man she loved at the beginning didn't help either, even if it was just the young spies way of testing him. But regardless of all of that, Pepper respected Natasha. "I'm not taking her side and you know it, so cut the bull shit." She didn't try to curb any of her anger with him. "Peter needs her, and you have NO right to keep them apart." Tony was a notorious control freak, and it was one of the many reasons he became the Iron Man.

"He needs me too!"

"He needs you BOTH." Happy finally spoke. It wasn't a yell, but it was loud enough to get the attention of Pepper and Tony. Happy was used to Tony's egotistical and selfish nature. And he was used to Natasha's 'do it on my own' attitude. But this was bigger than them. Peter's needs were more important than the power struggle going on between the two heros. "Peter's a good kid, whose had a hard life." Happy paused. "You _two_ being at each other's throats is the last thing he needs."

"He deserves better." Pepper affirmed.

Tony stayed silent, the feeling of guilt that he'd been trying desperately to repress came back to the front of his mind. _"Are Romanoff and I REALLY better?"_ His train of thought was interrupted by the buzzing of his phone in his pocket. _"Steve Rogers."_ Tony sighed, glad to have an out of the conversation but having no desire to speak to Cap.

"What is it?" He asked, leaving the room.

Steve held back a sigh, he wasn't surprised by the harshness in Tony's voice. Cap brushed it off, he knew Tony was still angry with him. Not that he could blame him. "We may have found something." Tony perked up.

"What did you find?" Tony could feel adrenaline hitting his bloodstream at the mere thought of catching the fugitive. "Do you know where Batroc is?" Steve staved off a laugh. Tony and Natasha were more similar than either of them would ever admit, but it was on full display when it came to the spider-boy.

"Unfortunately no," Steve took a seat at his desk, finding it completely untouched. "But we traced the house that P-" He stopped himself from saying the name. He was certain Tony knew who Peter's Mother was, but he didn't assume Tony would take kindly to him knowing that. "We traced the house back to a man named Thomas Mathis. Barton, Romanoff and myself went to investigate and he's hiding something." Cap wished he had more information. Knowing something in your bones, and being able to prove it were very different.

"Please tell me you didn't confront him..."

* * *

Anxiety had been a staple of Natasha's life for as long as she could remember. Not debilitating, but just an ever present feeling of uneasiness that lingered in her stomach and chest. But not even the years of coping with it could prepare her for the anxiousness she felt after her freakout at Mathis' apartment. "That was stupid." Natasha cursed herself as she walked hastily to the old living quarters.

Avenger's Tower wasn't Natasha's home anymore, it wasn't anyone's home. But entering her old room and finding it exactly how she left made her heart skip, just a little. The idea that Tony couldn't bring himself to clear the room of her belongings made her smile. Well, pay someone to clear her room.

 _"Maybe he doesn't hate me after all."_ Natasha thought with a smile as she planted her face in the pillow on the bed. It was short lived, remembering how he'd flexed his figurative muscle and dragged her away from Peter that very morning. The anger she felt was dulled by the feeling that his suspicion was justified. _"If you were Tony, would you trust you?"_ The answer to that question was an emphatic no. It didn't make Tony's abuse of his power okay, but it made it more... Understandable.

The fact was Natasha knew that Peter deserved better than her, and he _had_ better. May Parker may not be Peter's Mother but she'd been raising him for the better part of 10 years. Natasha shoved her face further into the pillow. She was used to being confident in her ability to do anything, and be great at it with little effort. Natasha was venturing into uncharted territory when it came to motherhood.  
Before Natasha realized it was happening, she was drifting off to sleep.

 _"Mommy loves you, little one." Natasha said to the toddler in front of her as she tucked him into his bed. She couldn't help but see his Father in his big brown eyes. "Always remember that." The boy smiled slightly as she pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. Natasha knew that if he remembered her at all, this would be what he remembered. She liked that idea, even if it was bittersweet._

 _"Are you finished?" Madame B called out, her voice oddly distant. Natasha nodded her response, still focused on her now sleeping baby. "They're coming for you, you know that, don't you." Natasha finished tucking the blanket around him and turned towards Madame B. The spy and her mentor shared a knowing look, the United States was coming for her. No one evaded them forever._

 _"Will you promise to let him have a normal life?" Natasha, to even her own amazement, wasn't afraid. Not for herself, that is. Her son deserved more of a life than what she had been given. "To give him to someone who will love him, the way he deserves to be loved?" There was an obvious desperation in the assassin's shaky voice._

 _"It is time to go." The blonde woman ignored the question._

 ** _BANG_**

Natasha's head shot off the pillow and her hand reached instinctively for the pistol she used to keep under her night stand. "Are you out of your fucking mind?" Tony's voice finally brought her back to reality and away from her clumsy attempt to grasp a weapon that wasn't there. She didn't respond, still in a state of shock from her dream, or memory rather and her rude awakening. "You gaggle of idiots confront a potential suspect, and you assault him!?" Tony asked though he already knew what they'd done.

Natasha curled herself into the blanket that she'd unknowingly crawled under during the night. "Piss off, Stark." She responded shortly. If it didn't directly involve Peter, she wasn't interested in discussing it with Tony.

"Natasha Romanoff!" Tony grabbed the end of the blanket and yanked it off her like she was a child refusing to get up for school. "This is serious!" Natasha's tired green eyes finally shot open. "Are you trying to bring Ross down on us?" Tony scolded. Ross was already suspicious of Romanoff and Stark, and if he got wind of Cap and Clint working with Tony again it'd be bad news. For all of them.

"Seems like you'd want him helping you find Batroc and not us," Natasha put her head back on the pillow. "Isn't he the gold standard for the law?" She could hear the bitterness in her own voice.

"Ross doesn't care about an escaped pirate and you know it." Thaddeus was far more interested in bringing in Captain America and the Winter Soldier than really anything else. Proving to the world that the Avengers, and any other advanced being, was dangerous was an obsession for him. He'd pounce on Tony any chance he got. "If _we_ all end up on the Raft, then Batroc gets away and no one else will catch him." Tony wasn't keen on spending the rest of his life in arguably the most secure facility on the planet.

"He's right, Natasha." Steve, who had been listening from the other room chimed in as he leaned against the doorframe. "We need to more calculated and calm in our approach than that." He spoke in his usual calm demeanor as slid past Tony to enter the room.

Natasha stared at him blankly for a moment. "Okay Mr. Aiding-and-abetting, why don't you hop down off your high horse?" She couldn't help but scoff at Steve and Tony for chastising her for not being forward thinking enough. Considering Tony had created an AI that tried to destroy mankind, and Steve had helped a wanted war criminal escape, regardless of whether or not he was innocent.

The room went quiet, and Natasha's stomached turned over when she thought of her actions. It was stupid. She knew it, and her partners knew it. "I fucked it up, didn't I?" Natasha finally vocalized her own feelings on the situation. Never before had she been so compromised, and out of control of her own emotions.

"No, Natasha, you didn't _mess_ everything up." Cap assured her, doing his best to not scold her language. "We just need to be smarter about it when we confront him next time." The eternal optimist that was Captain America spoke with confidence. They'd get their mark, sooner or later.  
It was a sharp contrast to Tony and Natasha, who were both glass half empty kind of souls.

Tony found Steve's optimism equally annoying and charming, but he kept any snarky comments to himself. _"If we get another chance."_ Tony thought, rolling his eyes.

" _If_ we get another chance." Natasha, again the eternal pessimist, shook her head. "And that's a BIG fucking if."

* * *

 _"You are a soldier and killer. Nothing less. Nothing more."_ The words of Batroc's Father echoed in his mind.

For many years Batroc had used the words of his own Father to justify what he'd become. He shook his aching head free from the memory and stared at a line of 25 mercenaries that had been brought to the warehouse. Ex-special forces, varying from Rangers to Spetsnaz, they'd collectively spilled blood on just about every continent on Earth.

None of them knew who the target was going to be, or why, or even when for that matter. But the great thing about hired guns was that they didn't care to know any information that wasn't absolutely necessary to the task at hand. "Our target is the Stark Holliday Fundraiser, on Christmas Eve." He looked for any signs of shock or uncertainty, the same as he did with his Zealots. Nothing. Not a even a flinch.

Georges smirked, he missed working with professionals. Not to say he didn't appreciate Hammer for getting him out of prison, or the United Orders devotion to their God.

"The event is being held at the Tavern on the Green, in Central Park." He began, pacing in front of the men. "We're going to storm the event and use the confusion and mass panic to our advantage." Georges held off the smile at the thought. "By the time the sun rises on Christmas day, Natasha Romanoff and Tony Stark will be dead. Do your jobs well, and you will all be rich beyond your wildest dreams."

"Excuse me," One of the men spoke up. Batroc's eyes found a man, not young, but not old whose eyes were fixed on him. Georges nodded for him to continue. "I realize we're all seasoned warriors here." He gave Batroc a knowing look. The man knew exactly who he was, but didn't say it. "But we're attacking Iron Man, with-" He glanced up and down the line of men. "25 men?" A fair point. Whole armies had tried, and failed, to kill the Avengers.

Batroc thought about how to respond. "We won't be alone, you'll find that the Avengers have many enemies." A few of the men exchanged looks. That was obvious, and an evasive answer to the mercenary's question.

"Care to elaborate on that?"

"No." The two stared at each other, neither shying away from the confrontation. Batroc smirked, and with one swift motion upholstered his pistol. **Bang!** The man collapsed to the floor, gasping for air and desperately trying to stem the blood pouring from the bullet in his heart. "Do not misinterpret the relationship you have with me." His eyes traveled across the row of men, who were now standing at attention. "We are not equals here; I employed you to do a job, not to ask questions." **Bang.** The man fell forward and went limp.

"The man who brought you here, Quinn, will take a list of any weapons and equipment you may need or want." He paused, watching the blood seep out onto the white floors. "Dismissed." Quickly the soldiers of fortune went to Quinn who was standing a few steps back from Batroc.

Killing the man may have been a bit overboard. But he felt compelled to make a statement to them. He would not be crossed, or questioned by them. Unlike the girl from the United Order who could never truly be a threat to him, these men could be a threat.

* * *

 _Hey there, little one._

 _I don't know if you'll remember or not, and part of me hopes that you won't. And you're too young to really understand what's going on right now. So I'm writing this for you, and I hope maybe you'll understand why I'm not around. And maybe you'll forgive me, one day._

 _Life has a funny way of punishing us for our mistakes. My punishment was being given a gift that never a million years could I deserve. You are that gift. I'm watching you play as I write this, and I can tell you there is no heaven that could match the happiness that it brings me. Or the happiness it brings me to see your little face light up when you see me after I've been gone for a long time. Something I won't get to see again.  
_

 _But in that happiness lies my punishment; I won't get to watch you grow up.. Because of the things I've done... Because of what I am. I'm not sure if knowing it's my fault makes me more or less bitter, not that it makes any difference now._

 _There's so much I want to tell you. What I would have named you, if they'd let me. Who your Father is. Who I REALLY am, or was, I suppose. And I'm sure you'll have questions of your own, and I'm so fucking sorry that I won't be there to answer them. God knows I want to be. But I'm sure he knows you deserve better._

 _I only have one more day with you, and we're running out of time, but I hope you read this, one day. And I hope you understand. And if you can't forgive me, well I guess I can't blame you.  
_ _Know that I loved you with all my heart from the very first moment I laid eyes on you._ _And that I am going to miss you, so much more than I could ever explain to you in a letter._

 _Goodbye, little one._

Peter read the letter a dozen or so times, his chest tightening with every read. _"Did she think she was going to die? Is that why she left?"_ Peter questioned, clutching the letter to his chest without noticing. "I need to call her.." He said, snatching his backpack and searching for his cell phone. She needed to know that he wasn't angry with her. Bitter maybe, but not angry.

"Call who?" Karen questioned, noting the spike in his heart rate.

"My-" He stopped before he could could finish. Peter wasn't sure if he wanted to call her Mom. But even if he did, the word wouldn't leave his mouth in reference too Natasha Romanoff. "I need to call Natasha." Peter nearly shattered his phone when he found it, losing control of his strength for just a moment.

The phone rang, and rang, for what felt like an eternity to the spider-boy. "Please pick up.."

Natasha stared at her ringing phone, taking a minute to process the name on the screen. 'Peter Parker.' A wave of happiness and wave of anxiety hit the Black Widow. "Peter?" She answered. "What's wrong?" Natasha's mind immediately went to the worst case scenario. It always did.

"W-What? Oh, n-nothings wrong." Once again Peter was anxiously stumbling over his words. "I just wanted-" Peter wanted to tell her that he forgave her, because there wasn't actually anything too forgive. And she'd been right, he had questions of his own. A million and half of them it seemed, but he'd open his mouth to speak and the words refused to come. Leaving and increasingly frustrated Peter standing there with his mouth open.

"Peter?" Natasha finally spoke again.

 _"Come on Parker! Say something!"_ He internally screamed at himself. "I called just to say goodnight." It wasn't entirely a lie, but it was far what he wanted to say.

Natasha felt a smile spread across her face. She opened her mouth to respond, the words _'I love you'_ on the tip of her tongue. But her mind went back to that morning, the memory of him recoiling from her touch still fresh in her mind. "Goodnight kiddo, sleep tight." She waited quietly for him to end the phone call, refusing to hang up until he did. Which to her surprise, and delight, he didn't. "Hey, did you want to come to the Fundraiser?" She offered, hoping for the boy to say yes.

"Do you guys want me there?" Peter wasn't used to being invited to anything. Let alone a Stark fundraiser.

"Of course we do, Peter." Natasha took the liberty of speaking for her and Tony. She wanted Peter there, and didn't care what Stark thought about it.

"I'd love to go."

 _Author's note: Ill end chapter 9 here, and thank you everyone for your patience with my update speed! As always a few things I wanted to talk about. I wasn't actually planning on putting the letter in the story put I think I've talked about it too much to NOT have it in here somewhere so I decided to do it this chapter. Also I wanted to delve into the emotions I thought Peter and Natasha would be feeling, both of them being afraid of being rejected by the other.  
_ _And Happy 1 year anniversary to this story. It's kind of crazy to think I've spent that much time on this but thank you all for your continued support! Please read and review!_


	10. Arrival of the Thunderbolt

Chapter Ten: Arrival of the Thunderbolt

Silence was not something Tony handled well. Whether it was an awkward silence, or the silence of his bedroom at night. Somehow sitting in the Quinjet with Natasha felt like both. He watched Natasha as she sat with her eyes closed and her arms folded over her chest. "I don't like this," Tony finally broke the silence, knowing that Natasha wasn't truly sleeping. Though she kept up the rouse anyway, which only served to irritate Tony. "We both know damn well you aren't sleeping! Now open your eyes and talk to me!" Tony demanded.

Her eyes opened, but she did not look at Tony. "It doesn't seem like you like _anything_ that has to do with me spending time with Peter." She had told Tony that she'd invited Peter to the fundraiser, where they were both expected to be. It had seemed harmless at the time, but Tony had been adamantly against it for the start.

"Batroc is on the loose somewhere in New York," Natasha rolled her eyes and shook her head. "This is serious, Nat!" Tony affirmed, finding her defiant attitude more than a little annoying. He was doing his best to have an adult conversation about this and Natasha was not making it easy on him.

"Georges Batroc is not what you are afraid of you fucking narcissist." Tony sat back in his seat, shocked by her sudden burst of anger. "You're just worried that-" Natasha stopped herself before she said anything she might regret later. Natasha had her fill of making rash decisions for awhile so she closed her eyes and thought carefully about what to say next.

Too her surprise, Tony didn't fire back with an insult. Or bring up her past as a way to justify an attempt to keep her and Peter apart. He was, for what seemed like the first time in all the years she'd known, quiet. Natasha wasn't sure where to go from there, she had grown so used to their clashing that it felt unnatural to not be caught in an argument.

 _"He deserves better."_ Pepper's words echoed in Tony's mind. Tony was afraid of losing Peter, more than afraid. He was absolutely _terrified_ losing him. And he was in fact afraid of Batroc and Peter being in the same city. But Pepper and Happy were right, he didn't have the right keep Natasha from Peter. And he was trying desperately to be the man that the Spiderling deserved.

"You know, I've never spent a Christmas with him." Natasha wore a wry smile as she spoke, and her voice carried a sadness Tony had never heard in it. Natasha didn't believe in anything, and holidays had seemed pointless to her for as long as she could remember. But still the fact that she'd never enjoyed such a simple thing with her only child gnawed at her.  
Tony stared at Natasha, wanting to comfort her, but not really knowing how. Natasha had always been of a lone wolf; never one to rely on others.

He opened his mouth to speak, not even sure what was going to come out. But hoping it'd be something encouraging. "We've arrived." Friday came over the speaker, interrupting the pair. Peter was already at the compound, having been flown up the night before so Natasha and Tony's talk was being cut short. Tony was... Disappointed, actually. Their relationship while not exactly where he wanted or needed it to be, was starting to feel far less counterproductive.

"Well, you'll get to this year." Tony smiled at her slightly before getting up from his seat. The Black Widow kept up a front of indifference until the ramp dropped and Tony exited the aircraft. Allowing out an exhale of excitement and a wide smile to spread across her face. Her heart was skipping in her chest.

* * *

"This is bad, Georges." Justin paced back and forth in front of Batroc, who did his best to conceal the unbearable headache that had came and never gone away. "This is really fucking bad! Your scrap with spider-boy or whatever the fuck his name is was one thing. Put Captain fucking America is snooping around _your_ allies!?" Batroc let the high strung Hammer rant for what felt like an eternity. He was aware of the seriousness of the situation they found themselves in but wanted to be the voice of reason to his spastic comrade. "What are we going to do!?" Hammer finally prompted him to reply.

"We do what most people do when they see a wanted criminal," He shrugged the response. As if it should have been obvious. "We report it to the FBI, the CIA, whoever else we think might be interested." Batroc smiled slightly.

"You actually think that'll work?" Justin had never considered using the law to his advantage. Considering he was a convicted felon himself and had helped a murderer escape prison it didn't seem the law would ever be in his favor.

"Steve Rogers is one of the most wanted men on the planet, certainly more wanted than me." As absurd as that was, even to him, it was true. The man that had helped beat back Loki and the Chitauri army, and stopped HYDRA from taking over the planet... Was a wanted criminal. Georges almost laughed at the absurdity of it, but he realized Justin was still watching him. Stilling silently begging him to make the situation feel less dire. "One guy getting pinched isn't the end of the world." He tried to reassure him with a light chuckle.

It was almost enough to be reassuring. Almost. "They'll just delay the inevitable." Justin had little faith in the Feds ability to successfully track and capture Rogers and Barton. They'd evaded capture for this long, after all.

"They won't catch us in time," Georges, forever confident in his plan switched out of his previous more playful demeanor. "Thaddeus Ross will slow them down just enough for our plan to be set. And then," He grinned wickedly at the thought. "Their heros will be in the ground and I'll be gone." He'd played this out in his head a hundred times.

"And where does that leave me?" Justin asked the only question that he could think of.

"Everyone that could link you to this will be dead, or a millionaire."

* * *

The Quinjet's arrival was something that was practically impossible for Peter to ignore. But he did his best to anyway, busying himself with working on his web shooters at the kitchen counter of the common area. They required constant maintenance, and pulling them apart distracted him from the anxiety of being there with Natasha and Mr. Stark. He figured they'd be at each other's throats before lunch.

"You know we have a workshop, right Mr. Parker?" Tony announced his entrance to the room. Peter's eyes came up to Tony as he went to the cabinet and began his usual search for a snack.

"Yeah." Peter lied. He'd spent all of 5 minutes at the compound last time they were there. How the hell was he supposed to know where anything was? Peter stopped working on the web shooter and began watching Tony. Searching for rigidness in his posture and tensing muscles. Looking for any signs of irritation or anger. Too his surprise, and relief, he saw nothing.

"Is Natasha here?" Peter knew the answer to his own question, but he probed anyway. The teen half expected Tony to make an offhanded remark about Natasha. Something about her spying on them, or plotting against him.

"Sure am." Natasha answered, rounding a corner and entering the kitchen. Peter froze for a moment, noticing she was dressed in workout gear, with her long hair pulled back into a ponytail. He forced his eyes back down to the device on the table, and once again began disassembling it. The sound of his heart beating was deafening and he could feel his hands getting clammy. There was a feeling of frustration settling into him while he worked. They'd been fine just a few days before and now he felt sick with anxiety.  
Partly because Mr. Stark was there, but mostly because Natasha was there.

A light kick of the chair brought Peter back to reality, and to Natasha who was standing next to him. "Let's go." She nodded her head to the right as she spoke.

"G-Go?" Peter stammered slightly. "Go where?" The nervousness in his voice was impossible to miss.

"Training session. I've been slacking off and you could use the training. No weapons, so leave your little web things." She stated simply, walking away without waiting for Peter to follow her. Peter's eyes instinctively went to Tony, who had been watching them while throwing handfuls of blueberries into his mouth. Tony realized quickly that Peter was looking to him for his approval before following.  
Tony smiled warmly, stilling chewing his snack. Peter turned quickly and jogged after Natasha who had already entered the training room.

The room was a large and windowless, the floors covered in blue mats from wall to wall. There were 6 punching bags hanging from the wall to his left, and the room was very hot. Uncomfortably hot, and Peter could already feel his clothes clinging to him. Peter took a tentative step forward. "No shoes on the mat!" Natasha called over to him, and the boy immediately retreated back onto the hardwood floor.

"Sorry." He apologized, removing his shoes and socks before stepping back onto the mats. The mats beneath his feet were cool, and he could feel himself sticking to them.

Natasha watched the boy, with a small smile on her face. "You ready, kiddo?" Peter's head snapped up from his feet at the sound of her voice.

"What are we doing?"

"Like I said, training. Now start running."

The pair spent the next hour and a half alternating between workouts from running, to sit ups, to jumping jacks, to push ups and back to running. And everything in between.  
Peter rested on his knee, catching his breath and getting a much needed drink of water. The workout hadn't exactly been rigorous, but even he was coated in a thin layer of sweat.  
The alarm went off in his head, sending him scurrying backwards away from the perceived anger. His eyes found Natasha, who had a look of amusement and slight shock on her face. In front of where he'd been sitting there was a pair of martial arts gloves.

"What are these for?" His eyes darted back and forth between Natasha and the gloves.

"Training...?" Natasha gave him a confused look.

"But, we just got _done_ training?"

Natasha stifled a giggle. "No, that was the warm up, kiddo." She wondered silently if Stark had ever actually trained with him. If he'd ever showed how to rely on himself if and when his tech failed. Or if he'd just given him said tech and called it a day. Knowing Tony, she found the latter to be more than likely.

Peter nervously slipped the gloves on and faced Natasha, who bounced from foot to foot.  
"Ready?" She asked. Peter nodded, and Natasha snapped a jab forward at Peter, testing him. Peter retreated away from the punch and continued backwards until his shoulders hit the wall. A mistake that Peter instantly regretted as Natasha advanced and backed him further into the corner.

With one last swift step forward she seized him by the collar and the alarm went off in his head again but he was frozen. Natasha had a 2 inch blade pointed directly between his eyes.

He swallowed hard. "Y-you said no weapons..!" Peter was stunned, though he knew he probably shouldn't have been.

"Did I?" She faked a confused look. "I lied!" Natasha's voice was barely above a whisper and her eyes showed no malice or intention of harming him. But still, the knife didn't lower.

"But you-" Peter began to protest, feeling slightly betrayed.

"Your enemies aren't going to be honest with you!" She released his collar and gripped his shoulder. "Assume everyone has a weapon, and assume they all want to use it on you. And you will never be caught off guard by a gun or a knife being drawn on you." Peter didn't like that outlook on the world. That outlook on _people_. Not one bit. It was so pessimistic... So cold. And so far from his trusting nature that he couldn't fathom it.

Natasha released him and turned away from the boy, putting the knife back into it's holder. Peter pushed off the wall, and was met with a swift back kick into the stomach. Knocking him back against the wall.

"Guard up, kiddo!" She smiled at the teen who glared in response. The kick wasn't hard, and it didn't it. But it was annoying to the spiderling who had never trained like this... Or at all really. "C'mon, center of the mat. Don't pout." She said bouncing away from him and into the center of the room. Peter followed and watched her intently, analyzing her stance and movement.  
It was far less rigid than Batroc's had been, and her hands weren't up like a traditional boxer. Instead they stayed low, near her hips. Ready, to evade and counter whatever the spiderling might throw at her. And she bounced on the balls of her feet with far more fluidity. Less hampered down by gravity.

The pair spent the next 2 hours working on all the things Natasha felt Peter should have learned from Tony by now. Not that she wasn't happy to be the one doing it, but it made her skin crawl knowing he'd been out there all this time without knowing how to really throw a punch.

"You okay?" Peter asked, noticing her water break was becoming more of her staring off into space.

Her eyes came back to the boy, a moment of dumbstruck awe washed over her. Her baby was here, and not just in spirit or in her dreams. "Yeah," Natasha smiled slightly. "Yeah, I'm good. Let's get back-" The door opening grabbed her attention.  
Tony came through first, his face uncharacteristically stoic. A suited man entered behind him, and it took her minute to process who it was. _"Ross!"_ She instinctively put herself between Thaddeus 'Thunderbolt' Ross and Peter.

"Mr. Secretary," Natasha spoke with the formality that was expected of her. Even if they all knew it was a front. "I'm surprised to see you." He ignored her, and glanced behind her to the boy.

"Who's this?" Ross asked, taking a few steps forward.

Natasha froze. The well crafted lie left her brain at the site of the man that had complete and total control of her. It was something about him being an intern...

"He's an intern," Tony came to the rescue, much to Natasha's relief. "A brilliant mind that I stumbled across." Ross didn't loom away from Peter. Eyeing the teen up and down, not buying what Tony was selling.

"Tell me, Stark," He took another few steps towards the boy until he was cut off by Natasha. Who simply just stepped into his path, her arms folded across her chest putting herself between them. He glared at her, angered by the younger woman's defiance. "Do interns usually train with agent Romanoff?"

"I fail to see who I train with is any of your business." Natasha stared straight through The Secretary of State. But he didn't falter, not the way most people would have.

" _Everything_ you do is my business, Agent." Ross snarled and tried to side step her to get to Peter who retreated a step. Again, Natasha stepped in front of him. "Stand down." Ross ordered.

Peter's eyes flicked between the three of them. Natash's face, stoic and emotionless, Ross' face, twisted in anger and beet red. His eyes finally met Tony's, who paid Ross and Natasha no attention. _"Don't run."_ Tony mouthed to the spiderling. Peter did as he was told and didn't run up the stairs and as far as his legs would carry him away from Thaddeus Ross.

"STAND DOWN!" He ordered again.

"Mr. Secretary?" Peter's timid voice drew both their attention. "I'm Peter Parker." He extended his hand to Ross, who shook it but eyed him suspiciously.

"Pleasure to meet you, Peter, now maybe you can explain what they won't." Ross pushed past Natasha, who didn't fight it this time. "Why would an intern be training with Natasha Romanoff? Aren't there more important and less dangerous things for an intern to be doing?" His eyes glance to the small drop of blood on his lower lip. Peter was quick to wipe the blood away.

Natasha watched the two anxiously. Peter had done rather well at concealing his secret identity from the world, but hiding it from Ross was another beast entirely.

"I've been getting picked on, in school." Peter's finger pressed one of the fading bruises on his face. "Natasha offered to teach me how to defend myself." Peter did his best to craft a convincing lie, one that he'd be able to remember if he was questioned again.

Natasha and Tony exchanged a look of relief, but knew this was far from over. And seemingly on queue, Ross turned his attention back to Natasha and Tony. "Do either of you know anything about Captain Rogers location?" Tony tensed at the question. He knew this wasn't a routine inspection, Ross had something.

Natasha shook her head slowly, her cold gaze locking on to Ross'. "How about you?" He turned attention fully to Tony. He knew Natasha well enough to know he'd get nowhere with her in this setting. "Do you know anything about Captain Rogers being spotted _IN_ New York?" Ross began to inch closer to the reason behind his visit to the compound, a place he rarely ventured.

"Nothing." Tony kept his response short.

"Hm," Ross strolled around behind Natasha. Ross was a shark, and he smelled blood in the water. "Funny that you get spotted with 2 known accomplices of yours and your boss knows nothing about it." The interrogation continued. "Tell me where he is, Romanoff." He ordered in a low voice. Ross wanted all of the Avengers that remained on Earth locked up, but he'd settle for Cap and Natasha.

She shook her head slightly, kicking herself mentally for the mess she'd made. "You're guess is as good as mine, Mr. Secretary."

"I will have you thrown in a cell for the rest of your miserable life if you don't tell me where Rogers is right now." It was less of a threat and more of a promise. Ross had been looking for an excuse to have her arrested since she'd been pardoned.

"Do you have evidence?" Peter's timid voice drew Ross' attention; and his rage.

"What..?"

Peter swallowed hard. "Do you have evidence of the crimes you are accusing her of?" Peter had done hours and hours of research into American law when he started his vigilante work. Enough to not incriminate himself or be led into a trap by law enforcement, had they decided to come after him.

"Evidence?" Ross repeated. "I don't need evidence." He moved towards the teen, yanking his arm free from Natasha when she attempted to stop him.

"That's not how the law works."

"I _AM_ the law."

"Nixon thought that too." Peter countered. "And look what happened to him." Ross leered over the much smaller teen. He was enraged by the boy's defiance and lack of respect of his position. But Peter wasn't backing down. "If there's nothing else, Mr. Secretary, I'd like to get back to training."

A small laugh escaped from Natasha, earning her a glare from Ross. Natasha bit down on her lip to hold back a prideful smirk, and shrugged her shoulders at him. Unlike Tony and herself, Ross had no jurisdiction over Peter, and he couldn't intimidate him into submission.

"I'll walk you out." Tony offered as Ross headed for the door.

Ross stopped as he passed Natasha and looked down at her; there wasn't anger in his eyes when he looked at her. Only a look of determination. Natasha was wise enough to keep her eyes down though. She was failing miserably to hide her smile and the last thing they needed was for Ross to see it. "I'll figure out who that boy is. Sooner or Later, Romanoff."

The door clicked shut behind Tony and Ross and Natasha couldn't hold her excitement for another second. "What was that?" She gripped his shoulders and stared into his dark brown eyes. Peter was quiet and timid, certainly not the type to stand up to one of the most powerful men on the planet. At least not without his suit and a mask concealing his identity. Peter smiled and shook his head, even he was amazed by what had just happened.

Natasha wrapped her arms around his thin shoulders and held him as close as she could. To her delight, Peter hugged her back.

His Uncle Ben had told him hundreds of times to stand up for himself, and for those who couldn't stand up for themselves. But that didn't always mean fighting, sometimes it meant just speaking out against something that was fundamentally wrong.  
 _"He never got to see it."_ The adrenaline rush wore off, and Peter crashed back to reality. Peter released Natasha, and she did the same, feeling the change in the boy.

"I should shower." Peter backed away from her. His mind now solely on his Uncle Ben. "Thank you, for the training."

Natasha was confused, and slightly hurt. She opened her mouth to speak, to ask if she'd done something wrong. _"A hug too much to ask for?"_ She thought back on him recoiling from her touch, and now pulling himself away from her embrace. She watched her son leave the room, and swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. She was frustrated, even if she knew she shouldn't be.

 _"It's not his fault that YOU left."_ Natasha reminded herself.

* * *

Bucky had a memory of the Tavern on the Green, or parts of a memory. Before the war, there was a man and woman with him, but he couldn't recall who they were. His parents, perhaps? He tried to grasp the memory, to bring it out of obscurity, the way Shuri had taught him. "You will not rid yourself of Hydra's brainwashing if you do not remember the man you were before it." The young genius' words echoed in his mind.

"Are you so sure that Batroc is going to go after them here?" Clint asked the Winter Soldier, still not trusting him the way Cap did. Or at all, really.

Bucky sighed and looked through his binoculars as people went about their business, blissfully unaware of their presence. "I would." He answered honestly. Silently picturing how he would carry out an attack on the upscale venue. For a solo operation, he'd almost certainly pick a high powered rifle and pick off his target from long range. But getting somebody in a crowded event from afar would be difficult on it's own. Not accounting for the panic and chaos that would surely ensue.

 _"An attack on the event itself then. This is going to get bloody..."_ Bucky lowered the binoculars knelt down behind the bushes. "Does Batroc have any known accomplices?"

"Dead or in prison." Steve sighed, they'd already been down that road and it didn't lead anywhere. "What is it, Buck?"

"What's the security at this thing like?"

"NYPD, mostly, and a few dozen private security guards." Steve paused. "And us." Steve wasn't sure that Batroc would attack his friends at the Fundraiser. But he'd be there to stop him if he did.

Bucky almost protested being present. He was one of the most wanted men on the planet, and still hadn't entirely rid himself of HYDRAS' brainwashing. Something that made him weary of crowds, and the public.  
But Bucky fought off his impulse, and tried to remember the man he was before and what he would have wanted. He would want to stop Batroc. To protect the people who were going to be caught in the crossfire. To protect Tony Stark, and _Natasha Romanoff_.

* * *

 _Author's Note: Hey guys! First things first, I am really sorry for the wait and for making any of you guys worry that I wasn't going to be coming back. My life has been a bit hectic since the last update, so again I apologize!  
So Natasha and Peter training together is something I visualized a lot and I was going to go more detailed but I felt it'd eat up a lot of time and not take the story anywhere so I left the majority of it on the cutting room floor. But I do still think it's important to show some of it. And I'm slowly moving Natasha and Tony's relationship forward to more level ground.  
Also I want to clarify in case it wasn't clear Peter was trying to protect Natasha and Tony from Ross. _

_Ill try to update faster, and thank you everybody for being patient with me!  
And rest in peace Stan Lee, who passed away 1 day after my last update. _


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